Skip to main content

Full text of "Hands up; or, Thirty-five years of detective life in the mountains and on the plains"

See other formats


^9  ^^ 

UNIVERSITY 

OF  PITTSBURGH 

LIBRARY 


Dar.i:im, 
HV791^ 

C771 


THIS  BOOK  PRESENTED  BY 


Mrs,  Charles  Friesell 


HANDS  UP; 


OR, 


THIRTY-FIVE  YEARS  OF  DETECTIVE  LIFE  IN  THE 
MOUNTAINS  AND  ON  THE  PLAINS. 


Reminiscences  hy  General  D.  J.  Cook,  Chief  of  the  Eock/j 
Mountciin  Detective  Association. 


Compiled  by  John  W.  Cook. 


A  Condensed  Criminal  History  of  the  Far  West. 


DENVER :  i 

THE  W.  F.  ROBINSON  PRINTING  CO.,  \ 

1897.  \ 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1897, 

BY  D.  J.  &.  J.  W.  COOK, 

In  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 
All  rights  reserved. 


CONTENTS. 

A  Hidden  Treasure 13 

Capture  of  the  Allison  Gang 35 

A  Cowboy's  Sad  Fate 43 

Denver's  Last  Legal  Hanging 48 

The  Italian  Murderers 57 

Musgrove  and  His  Gang 92 

The  Exchange  Bank  Robbery 125 

The  Hayward  Murder 131 

A  Dunkard  Disgraced 169 

The  Wall  Murder  Mystery 1T7 

A  SUck  Scoundrel 213 

A  Bogus  Detective's  Fate 218 

The  Leichsenring  Robbery 233 

A  Deal  with  the  Black  Hills  Road  Agents 237 

In  the  Express  Business 249 

A  Farm  Hands  Awful  Crime 254 

A  Half-Million-Dollar  Robber 274 

A  Utah  Murderer's  Capture 283 

A  Tale  of  Two  Continents 302 

Two  of  a  Kind . 309 

Hanged  in  a  Hog  Pen 315 

A  Tussle  with  the  Habeas  Corpus 323 

A  Desperate  Railroad  Contractor 333 

Dealing  with  Strikers 346 

A  Victim  of  Draw  Poker 351 

A  Horse  Thief's  Folly 362 

Pueblo  Vengence , --  368 

The  Retribution  of  Fate . 381 

A  Townful  of  Thieves - 388 

Ragsdale  Gates 396 

Taken  by  Surprise 4C0 

A  Race  for  Life 406 

A  Dream  of  Death 427 

A  Mexican  Bandit 437 

Conclusion 440 


ILLUSTKATIONS. 

Robbing  a  Buckskin  Coach 18 

The  Attack  on  the  Robbers  Camp 24 

Execution  of  the  Robbers 29 

Reynold's  Map,  showing  location  of  treasure 32 

Dead  Cinch  Hand  Cuffs 36 

Arrest  of  the  Allison  Gang 40 

Killing  of  Van  Pelt  by  Officers 45 

Killing  of  Street  Car  Driver  Whitnah 50 

Hanging  of  Andrew  Green 54 

The  Italian  Murder 59 

Finding  of  the  Treasure 71 

Arrest  of  Gallotti 78 

Arrest  of  Ballotti,  Campagne  and  AUessandri 84 

Fatal  Fight  at  Golden  between  Officers  and  Duggan  and  Miles  Hill 103 

KiUingof  Ed  Franklin  at  Golden 108 

Lynching  of  Musgrove 116 

Lynching  of  Duggan  in  Denver  122 

Murder  of  R.  B.  Hayward 135 

Capture  of  Seminole 143 

Arrest  of  Sam  Woodruff 153 

Lynching  of  Woodrviflf  and  Seminole 165 

Killing  of  Wall  by  Wight  and  Witherill •. 183 

A  Buffalo  Chase  by  Wight  and  Witherill 191 

Lynching  of  Geo.  B.  Witherill 210 

Surprise  of  Road  Agents  by  Officer  Boswell 245 

Arrest  of  Theo.  Meyers  by  Gen'l.  Cook 271 

Hanging  of  Theo  Meyers 272 

Murder  of  J.  F.  Turner  by  Welcome  and  Emerson 286 

Arrest  of  Welcome  by  T.  Jeff.  Carr 293 

Execution  of  Fred  Hopt  at  Salt  Lake 299 

Hanging  of  Robert  Schamle 320 

Arrest  of  John  Kelly 337 

Shooting  of  John  Doen 364 

Arrest  of  Bill  White 373 

Lynching  of  White  at  Pueblo 379 

Arrest  of  Entire  Male  Population  of  Carson 393 

Arrest  of  Ed.  McGrand 403 

Shooting  of  Officer  Wilcox  by  Clodfelter  and  Johnson 410 

Pursuit  and  Capture  of  Clodfelter  and  Johnson 419 

Mrs.  Ramsey's  Vision  of  her  Husbands  Murder 434 


GENERAL  DAVID  J.  COOK. 

This  book  consists  of  a  series  of  reminiscences  of  Gen.  D. 
J.  Cook,  chief  of  tlie  Roclcy  Mountain  Detective  AssociatioD, 
which  has  been  in  existence  for  the  past  thirty-five  years,  dur- 
ing which  time  Gen.  Coolc  has  been  continuously  at  its  head. 
He  organized  it  in  the  beginning  and  has  remained  with  it 
from  that  time  until  his  own  name  and  that  of  the  association 
have  become  almost  synonymous  terms  in  the  entire  Rocky 
Mountain  country,  where  both  are  known  and  where  both  are 
respected  and  relied  upon  implicitly  by  honest  people,  and 
where  both  are  proportionately  feared  by  evil  doers  of  all 
classes  likely  to  "have  business"  with  them.  The  stories  told 
are  all  true  records,  but  while  their  number  is  quite  consider- 
able they  are  only  a  portion  of  the  thrilling  experiences — 
whether  his  own  or  those  of  officers  of  his  association — with 
which  his  mind  is  stored.  Indeed,  if  Gen.  Cook  should  at- 
tempt to  even  furnish  a  complete  narrative  of  his  own  ad- 
ventures, it  would  fill  a  volume  much  larger  than  this  one^ 
for  his  has  been  a  life  of  excitement  and  adventure,  of  exposure 
and  hardships,  of  heroic  deeds  and  manj'  narrow  escapes.  Be- 
ginning as  the  son  of  an  Indiana  farmer,  Mr.  Cook  has  by  hi» 
own  unaided  exertions,  i)laced  himself  at  the  head  of  the  de- 
tective force  of  the  West,  and  has  in  many  ways  made  himself 
prominent  as  a  useful  citizen  of  a  growing  region. 

David  J.  Cook  was  born  August  12,  1840,  in  Laporte 
county,  Ind.,  being  a  son  of  George  Cook,  a  farmer  and  land 
speculator.  Receiving  a  moderate  education,  he  worked  on 
farms  in  Indiana,  Iowa  and  Kansas  until  1859.  His  father  set- 
tled in  Iowa  in  1853,  on  the  present  site  of  Laporte,  now  a 
thriving  city,  but  then  a  howling  wilderness.  Selling  out  to 
good  advantage,  the  family  moved  to  Jefferson  county,  Kan., 
in  1855,  settling  on  a  tract  of  land  north  of  where  the  little 
city  of  Meriden  now  stands,  on  Rock  creek.  When  the  wave 
of  excitement  which  swept  the  country  on  the  discovery  of 
gold  at  Pike's  peak   came,  it  bore  him  to  the  Rocky  mount- 


4  GENERAL  DAVID  J.  COOK. 

ains,  where  be  spent  nearly  two  years  in  mining  in  what  is 
now  called  Gilpin  county,  Colorado.  Keturning  to  Kansas  he 
bought  a  farm,  but  in  the  fall  of  1861  he  went  to  Rolla,  Mo., 
and  engaged  in  running  supply  trains. 

He  was  soon  afterward  transferred  to  the  ordnance  de- 
partment of  the  Army  of  the  Frontier,  and  early  in  1863  came 
again  to  Colorado  and  established  the  association  with  which 
his  name  has  since  been  connected,  and  W'hich  has  so  long  been 
a  terror  to  evil  doers  and  a  trusty  guardian  of  the  public 
safety. 

Enlisting  in  the  Colorado  cavalry,  he  was  in  the  spring  of 
1864  detailed  b^'  the  quartermaster  of  the  Denver  post  as 
government  detective  in  Colorado,  and  served  until  the  abandon- 
ment of  the  post  in  1866.  He  next  served  three  years  as  city 
marshal  of  Denver,  and  in  the  fall  of  1869,  was  elected  sheriff 
of  Arapahoe  county.  So  satisfactory  to  the  people  of  the  county, 
of  both  political  parties,  was  his  administration  of  the  sheriff's 
office,  that  at  the  end  of  his  term  he  was  reelected  without 
opposition,  and  served  two  years  longer.  From  1873  he  gave 
his  entire  attention  to  the  detective  work,  holding  at  the  same 
time  the  position  of  deputy  United  States  marshal  until  the 
fall  of  1875,  when  he  was  again  elected  sheriff,  and  reelected 
at  the  end  of  two  years,  his  last  term  expiring  in  January, 
1880.  In  1873  he  was  appointed  hj  Gov.  Elbert,  and  con- 
firmed by  the  senate,  major  general  of  Colorado  militia;  was 
reappointed  by  Gov.  Routt,  and  again  by  Gov.  Pitkin,  serving 
four  years  under  each.  He  has  served  as  major  general  for 
nine  years,  and  has  rendered  efficient  service  in  quelling  riots 
throughout  the  state,  as  Mell  as  in  recent  Indian  troubles.  Dur- 
ing the  Leadville  strike,  which  occurred  in  June,  1880,  and  in 
which  Mooney  was  to  that  city  what  Dennis  Kearney  has  been 
to  San  Francisco,  Gen.  Cook  was  sent  hy  Gov.  Pitkin  as  com- 
mander-in-chief of  the  state  militia,  and  bv  his  efficiencv  soon 
brought  the  rioters  under  subjection  to  the  laws  of  the  state. 
During  what  was  known  as  the  Chinese  riot,  which  caused 
such  disgrace  to  Denver  on  October  31,  1880,  the  mayor  and 
sheriff  called  on  Gen.  Cook  to  quell  the  riot,  after  the  author- 
ities had  failed  to  do  so.    Gen.  Cook  took  charge  of  the  police 


GENERAL  DAVID  J.  COOK.  5 

and  twenty-five  special  police,  nearly  all  of  whom  were  trusted 
members  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  Detective  Association,  that 
he  swore  into  service,  and  in  a  short  time  brought  the  rioters 
under  subjection  and  caused  them  to  disperse,  after  arresting 
the  ringleaders  and  placing  them  in  jail.  The  resignation  of 
Mr.  Hickey  as  chief  of  police  caused  a  vacancy  which  the  lead- 
ing business  men  of  Denver  thought  Gen.  Cook  the  most  fit- 
ting man  to  fill.  Knowing  the  great  desire  manifested  in  re- 
gard to  having  an  efficient  chief  of  police,  the  city  council  con- 
firmed Gen.  Cook  in  that  position. 

In  addition  to  the  responsible  position  to  which  Gen.  Cook 
was  then  elevated,  he  has  also  acted  as  deputy  United  States 
marshal  for  the  district  of  Colorado,  to  which  he  was  again 
appointed  two  jears  previous. 

Gen.  Cook  is  a  born  detective.  When  asked  one  day  how 
he  happened  to  follow  this  business,  he  replied:  "It  is  natural. 
I  can't  help  it;  I  like  it."  He  never  received  a  day's  training 
from  any  other  detective  in  his  life,  and  yet  from  the  very 
beginning  he  took  rank  with  the  best  in  the  country.  He  stands 
to-day  alongside  of  ]Mr.  Pinkerton.  Indeed,  many  of  his  ex- 
ploits have  far  exceeded  those  of  that  justly-renowned  officer 
in  thrilling  detail  and  startling  climax.  A  hundred  times  in 
his  life  Dave  Cook  has  been  placed  in  positions  where  another 
man,  under  the  same  circumstances,  less  shrewd  or  less  courage- 
ous, would  have  been  shot  dead  in  his  tracks  or  eternall}'  dis- 
graced. But  he  was  ever  the  right  man  in  the  right  place  as 
a  detective,  and  it  is  owing  to  this  fact  that  he  has  passed 
thirty-five  years  of  detective  and  official  life  on  the  frontier  with- 
out being  killed.  He  possesses  the  essential  qualities  of  mind 
and  body  necessary  to  become  a  successful  detective  in  a  de- 
gree rarely  equaled  in  one  man.  He  is  both  brave  and  dis- 
creet. He  is  never  afraid  to  strike.  Xo  position  apjjals  him. 
Yet  he  is  cool-headed  and  cautious  and  wastes  no  blows — 
ventures  into  no  unnecessary  danger,  and  knows  how  to  re- 
serve his  strength  until  it  is-  needed  most.  When  the  time 
comes  to  act  he  acts  with  decision  and  promptness,  always 
accomplishes  his  purpose,  no  difference  what  the  odds.  He  is 
an  excellent  judge  of  men.     He  knows  how  to  select  the  best 


^  GENERAL  DAVID  J.  COOK. 

assistants,  and  he  "spots"  a  criminal  nine  times  out  of  ten. 
He  knows  when  to  talli  and  when  to  allow  others  to  talk.  He 
will  listen  half  a  day  to  a  string  of  surmises  entirely  contrary 
to  his  own  without  interposing  an  objection,  with  the  hope  of 
getting  a  clue,  where  other  men  would  spoil  everything  by 
airing  their  own  opinions.  His  memory  is  excellent,  his  pa- 
tience inexhaustible,  his  ability'  to  put  this  and  that  together 
is  unexcelled,  his  perception  is  sharp,  his  reasoning  is  clear, 
his  courage  is  undoubted  and  his  judgment  is  cool  under  all 
circumstances.  Add  to  these  faculties  the  fact  that  he  always 
deals  fairly  with  the  public;  that  he  never  fails  to  protect 
his  prisoners,  and  that  he  is  a  man  of  fine  bearing,  of  splendid 
figure,  a  face  of  iron  on  which  a  smile  appears  at  home,  and 
you  will  discover  the  secret  of  Dave  Cook's  success  as  a  detec- 
tive and  as  an  executive  officer  on  the  frontier  in  the  Rocky 
Mountains. 

It  was  when  Cook  was  sixteen  years  of  age  that  he  went, 
with  his  father,  to  Leavenworth.  He  was  a  countr^'^  boy, 
roughly  clad  and  without  experience  in  life.  His  father  sent 
him  forward  to  the  hotel  to  engage  rooms.  He  had  never  be- 
fore had  such  a  duty  as  this  imposed  upon  him.  When  he  went 
in  there  was  no  one  behind  the  counter,  but  the  seats  outside 
were  filled  with  the  usual  crowd  of  hotel  loafers — voung  fel- 
lows  living  in  the  city,  who,  seeing  a  country  boy  enter,  con- 
cluded to  "guy"  him.  Finding  no  one  at  the  counter,  he  turned 
to  the  crowd  and  asked  for  the  proprietor.  The  loafers  were 
inclined  to  giggle,  and  as  they  pointed  out  one  of  their  own 
■crowd  as  the  individual  sought,  the  country  boy  thought  he 
observed  several  sly  winks  and  heard  suppressed  laughter. 
Turning  to  the  man  whom  he  was  told  was  the  party  sought,  he 
asked : 

"Are  you  the  proprietor?" 

"I  am,"  he  replied,  and  he  and  all  the  rest  laughed. 

Then  it  was  that  Dave's  insight  into  character  and  his  ready 
ability  to  "say  things  that  hurt"  came  to  the  surface  at  the 
right  time. 

"I  just  wanted  to  know,"  he  replied,  "for  if  you  are  I  shall 
hunt  another  hotel." 


GENERAL  DAVID  J.  COOK.  7 

The  character  of  the  laugh  which  accompanied  the  boy's 
walk  to  the  door  was  quite  different  from  that  which  had  pre- 
vailed before. 

Mr.  Cook  did  his  first  detective  work  three  years  after- 
wards, and  then  discovered  his  ability  in  that  line.  He  left 
Kansas  and  came  to  the  Rocky  mountains  in  1859,  accompanied 
by  a  brother,  their  purpose  being  to  seek  their  fortunes  mining. 
They  were  operating  in  the  placer  diggings  in  Missouri  Flat, 
between  Black  Hawk  and  Russell  Gulch,  and  had  accumulated 
$250  in  gold-dust,  which  they  discovered  one  morning  to  be 
missing.  Mr.  Cook  remembered  that  a  man,  against  whom 
no  one  had  suspicions,  however,  had  been  around  the  camp 
until  recently,  but  now  found  that  he  was  gone.  Contrary  to 
the  advice  of  all  the  "older  heads,"  he  decided  this  to  be  the 
man  he  wanted,  and  concluded  to  follow  him.  He  overtook 
the  fellow  near  Golden  and  made  him  disgorge,  and,  besides, 
pay  all  the  expenses  which  Cook  had  incurred  in  his  pursuit. 
This  man  was  one  of  the  very  few  criminals  whom  Cook  has 
allowed  to  escape  without  placing  them  in  the  hands  of  the 
authorities.  But  in  this  case  the  offense  was  against  Cook 
himself,  and  he  was  his  own  officer.  The  law  of  the  miners 
of  that  day  inflicted  the  death  penalty  for  stealing  only  $5 
worth  of  any  article  from  a  miner.  Cook  knew  what  the  re- 
sult would  be  if  he  took  the  man  back  to  camp,  and  he  allowed 
the  promptings  of  humanity  to  prevail  and  permitted  the  fel- 
low to  go  free,  much  to  the  man's  relief,  who  also  knew  the 
laws  of  the  pioneer  gold  hunters  to  be  more  severe  than  those 
of  the  Medes  and  Persians. 

It  was  not,  however,  until  Cook  returned  to  Colorado,  in 
1863,  that  he  really  began  his  detective  career  in  earnest.  He 
was  engaged  at  first  as  an  assistant  detective  for  the  quarter- 
master's department  in  the  district  composed  of  the  camps  at 
Denver,  Fort  Collins,  Booneville,  on  the  Arkansas,  and  Jules- 
burg.  But  he  soon  became  chief  of  the  department  for  the 
district,  a  position  which  he  held  for  three  years,  resigning  at 
the  end  of  that  time  to  be  elected  city  marshal  of  Denver. 
During  the  three  years  of  his  service  as  government  detective 
he  saved  the  country  over  |100,000  worth  of  property,  such  as 


8  GENERAL  DAVID  J.  COOK. 

horses,  mules,  provisioDS  and  feed,  which  would  otherwise  have 
been  lost,  and  was  the  means  of  exposing  the  tricks  of  many 
who  were  high  in  authority.  His  first  exploit  of  note  was 
the  breaking  up  of  a  gang  of  horse  thieves,  who  were  plunder- 
ing both  the  army  and  the  citizens,  and  by  both  of  which  par- 
ties he  was  engaged  to  jjerform  the  service.  Being  allotted 
to  this  sj^ecial  work,  he  went  to  Chase  &  Healey's  gambling 
hall,  on  Blake  street,  then  a  noted  gambling  establishment, 
and  took  a  table  and  began  to  deal  Spanish  monte  between 
two  then  notorious  characters,  who  afterwards  met  death  at 
the  hands  of  vigilance  committees,  called  respectively  "Goggle- 
Eyed  Ed''  and  ''Smiley,"  whom  he  suspected  of  being  at  the 
head  of  the  thieves.  In  less  than  ten  days  he  was  in  possession 
of  their  secrets,  and  was  able  to  "spot"  their  assistants,  to^ 
arrest  several  aids  and  to  recover  some  twenty  horses,  besides- 
a  vast  deal  of  other  i)roperty,  worth  in  the  aggreg.ate  |10,000. 
He  discovered,  among  other  things,  that  some  of  the  soldiers- 
were  in  the  habit  of  selling  army  horses  to  a  certain  saloon- 
keeper. Ten  horses  had  disappeared,  but  they  could  not  be 
traced.  He  procured  an  assistant  in  the  person  of  a  soldier,, 
who  succeeded  in  negotiating  the  sale  of  a  horse  to  this  pur- 
chaser for  a  mere  song,  and  was  requested  to  deliver  him  at 
midnight  at  the  saloon.  Stationing  himself  at  a  convenient 
point  with  a  companion,  Cook  saw  an  assistant  of  the  pur- 
chaser mounted  upon  the  horse  which  the  soldier  detective  had 
turned  over  to  him,  and  start  off  at  a  brisk  gallop  towards  the 
north.  Cook  and  his  man  followed  at  a  safe  distance  behind, 
through  the  darkness,  over  the  plains  and  into  the  mountains 
and  out  again,  down  to  a  secure  hiding  place  on  the  St.  Vrain, 
where  the  rider  stopped,  after  a  fifteen  hours'  gallop,  quite 
unconscious  that  he  had  been  pursued.  Coming  upon  him  Cook 
captured  the  rider  and  twelve  head  of  army  horses,  which 
were  grazing  near  b.^'.  The  details  of  other  captures  made  at 
this  time  are  just  as  thrilling  as  this,  but  this  will  serve  as  a 
specimen,  and  will  help  to  explain  the  popularity  which  Mr. 
Cook  soon  attained  as  an  efllicient  officer — a  popularity  which 
a  few   years  afterwards  elected  him  to  the   city   marshalship 


GENERAL  DAVID  J.  COOK.  9 

in  the  face  of  vigorous  ox)position  bv  numerous  contestants  for 
the  prize. 

A  strong  point  Avith  Gen.  Cook  has  ever  been  his  splendid 
capacity  for  organization  and  controlling  men.  This  faculty 
makes  him  one  of  the  most  capable  as  well  as  one  of  the  most 
popular  commanders  of  our  militia,  and  it  has  also  aided  him 
in  making  the  Eockj'  Mountain  Detective  Agency,  of  which 
he  was  the  originator,  one  of  the  most  efficient  of  the  kind  in 
the  world.    It  covers  Colorado,  Kansas,  Nebraska,  New  Mexico, 

t 

Utah,  Texas,  Wyoming,  Arizona  and  California,  the  entire 
country  north  of  Mexico  and  between  the  Missouri  river  and 
the  Pacific,  besides  having  agents  in  all  the  principal  cities 
of  the  United  States,  and  is  perfectly  organized,  every  detail 
being  understood  and  superintended  by  Mr.  Cook.  Its  opera- 
tions have  been  \ei\  extensive  and  its  "dead  certaintv''  has 
made  it  a  terror  to  evil-doers.  Cook  has  held  his  place  at  its 
head  by  the  undisi)uted  right  of  superiority.  As  good  a  de- 
tective as  the  best  of  his  aides,  he  is  a  better  commander  and 
organizer  than  any  of  them.  He  is  versatile  and  quick  to  see 
a  point,  and  just  as  quick  in  adapting  himself  to  circumstances. 
He  knows  when  to  smile,  when  to  frown.  He  can  drive  steers, 
play  faro  or  become  a  lawyer  when  circumstances  demand. 

As  an  officer,  Mr.  Cook's  career  has  been  quite  remarkable. 
He  has  almost  continuously  since  1866  held  some  office  besides 
that  of  superintendent  of  detectives,  which  has  placed  him  in 
positions  of  danger.  Beginning  as  city  marshal,  he  held  that 
place  for  years,  and  was  afterwards  deputy  United  States  mar- 
shal, sheriff  of  Arai)ahoe  county  eight  years  and  also  chief  of 
police.  It  is  doubted  whether  there  is  a  parallel  case  in  the 
country,  especially  in  this  far  western  country,  where  men  are 
more  often  desperate  than  elsewhere.  During  his  experience 
he  has  arrested  over  three  thousand  men.  fully  fifty  of  whom 
have  been  the  most  desperate  murderers,  whom  he  has  often 
taken  at  great  disadvantage  to  himself.  Of  all  these  three 
thousand  he  never  allowed  one  to  seriouslv  hurt  him,  not  one 
of  them  to  get  away  when  taken,  and  not  one  to  be  violently 
•dealt  with  when  in  his  hands  as  an  officer.     His  remarkable 


10  GENERAL  DAVID  J.  COOK. 

success  he  attributes  to  the  observance  of  the  following  rules 
which  he  here  prints  for  the  benefit  of  young  officers: 

I.  Never  hit  a  prisoner  over  the  head  with  your  pistol, 
because  you  may  afterwards  w^ant  to  use  your  weapon  and 
find  it  disabled.  Criminals  often  conceal  weapons  and  some- 
times draw  one  when  they  are  supposed  to  have  been  disarmed. 

II.  Never  attempt  to  make  an  arrest  without  being  sure 
of  your  authority.  Either  have  a  warrant  or  satisfy  yourself 
thoroughly  that  the  man  whom  you  seek  to  arrest  has  com- 
mitted  an  offense. 

III.  When  you  attempt  to  make  an  arrest  be  on  your 
guard.  Give  your  man  no  opportunity  to  draw  a  pistol.  If 
the  man  is  supposed  to  be  a  desperado,  have  your  pistol  in  your 
hand  or  be  ready  to  draw  when  you  make  yourself  known.  If 
he  makes  no  resistance  there  will  be  no  harm  done  by  your 
precaution.  My  motto  has  always  been  "It  is  better  to  kill 
two  men  than  to  allow  one  to  kill  you." 

IV.  After  your  prisoner  is  arrested  and  disarmed  treat 
him  as  a  prisoner  should  be  treated — as  kindly  as  his  conduct 
will  permit.  You  will  find  that  if  you  do  not  protect  your 
prisoners  w^hen  they  are  in  your  possession,  those  whom  you 
afterwards  attempt  to  arrest  will  resist  you  more  fiercely,  and 
if  they  think  they  will  be  badly  dealt  with  after  arrest,  will 
be  inclined  to  sell  their  lives  as  dearly  as  possible. 

V.  Never  trust  much  to  the  honor  of  prisoners.  Give 
them  no  liberties  which  might  endanger  your  own  safety  or 
afford  them  an  opportunity  to  escape.  Nine  out  of  ten  of  them 
have  no  honor. 

It  will  not  be  out  of  place  to  remark  in  closing,  that  Gen. 
Cook  has  never  violated  a  confidence  and  never  failed  to  sat- 
isfy those  by  whom  he  was  engaged — whether  private  indi- 
viduals, corporations,  the  army  officials  or  the  public  at  large. 
Gen.  Upton,  who  was  the  author  of  "Upton's  Tactics,"  was  in 
command  in  this  district  while  Mr.  Cook  was  chief  detective. 
He  wrote  of  him  on  a  certain  occasion:  "Mr.  Cook  is  a  reliable 
and  an  experienced  detective." 

The  Tribune  said  of  him  when  he  w\as  a  candidate  for 
sheriff  in  1875:    "He  is  admirably  adapted  to  the  office  to  which 


GENERAL  DAVID  J.  COOK.  H 

he  has  been  nominated.  This  combination  of  good  politics  and 
exact  fitness  is  the  source  of  a  great  deal  of  satisfaction  to 
all  genuine  and  steadfast  republicans.  No  one  presumes  to 
question  D.  J.  Cook^s  official  fidelity  and  efficiency.  The  com- 
mon verdict  is  that  •  he  has  made  the  best  sheriff  Arapahoe 
county  has  ever  had.  And  the  people  in  supporting  him  in 
the  canvass,  and  voting  for  him  at  the  polls,  support  him  and 
vote  for  him  for  sheriff.  He  will  be  elected  to  discharge  the 
duties  of  that  office,  and  for  nothing  else.  And  the  people 
all  have  the  certain  assurance  that  he  will  discharge  those 
duties  ably,  faithfully,  promptly  and  honestly;  that  he  will 
surely  arrest  criminals,  and  as  surely  keep  them  after  arrest; 
that  he  will  effectively  aid  in  the  maintenance  of  peace  and 
order  in  the  community,  and  that  he  will  afford  much  sure 
protection  to  the  persons  and  property  of  the  citizens." 

He  was  elected  sheriff  in  the  contest  above  referred  to, 
and  after  the  term  of  office  had  expired  the  Rocky  Mountain  Netos 
summed  up  the  results  of  his  term  of  office  as  follows: 

''Money  and  property  worth  |80,000  was  recovered  and 
transferred  to  the  lawful  owners.  The  press  of  the  city  was 
often  placed  under  obligations  for  valuable  and  timely  in- 
formation. Four  gangs  of  railroad  thieves  were  effectively 
broken  up  in  different  parts  of  the  state,  and  riot  prevented  on 
several  occasions.  Three  of  the  apprehended  criminals  were 
hanged  after  transfer  to  the  local  authorities:  Robert  Shamle, 
in  Georgetown,  and  AVoodruff  and  Seminole,  in  Golden.  The 
beginning  of  the  term  was  marked  by  the  arrest  of  the  Italian 
murderers,  nine  in  all,  and  its  close  by  the  chase  and  capture 
of  the  Hayward  murderers.  During  the  four  years  ending  at 
noon  to-day.  Sheriff  Cook  and  his  deputies  conveyed  121  pris- 
oners to  the  penitentiary  at  Caiion,  and  lost  none  by  the  way. 
There  was  no  jail  delivery  in  Arapahoe  county,  nor  was  the 
board  of  commissioners  at  any  time  asked  to  offer  one  cent 
as  reward  for  the  return  of  fugitives.  During  the  term  three 
men  were  killed  while  resisting  arrest,  under  orders  of  Sheriff 
Cook.  They  were  Doan,  at  Cheyenne;  W.  T.  McLaughlin,  at 
Garland,  and  George  Wilson,  in  Arizona.  The  sheriff  and  his 
force,  during  the  term   under  notice,   recovered   315   head   of 


12  GENERAL  DAVID  J.  COOK. 

stolen  cattle  and  sent  seven  of  the  tliieves  to  Canon.  Also; 
fifty  stolen  horses,  sending  nine  of  the  thieves  to  Cailon.  Of 
the  cattle  mentioned,  Arapahoe  county  lost  not  a  hoof  during 
the  last  eighteen  months."' 

Indeed,  during  his  entire  career  he  has  received  many  words 
of  praise  from  press  and  public,  and  has  seldom  been  criticized 
for  any  other  than  political  reasons  or  because  of  personal 
spite  which  was  the  result  of  treading  upon  tender  corns  in 
the  discharge  of  official  duty. 


A  HIDDEN  TREASUEE. 
CHAPTER  I. 

AN  INTERESTING  BIT  OF  COLORADO  HISTORY  NEVER  BEFORE 
PRINTED— THE  REYNOLDS  GANG  OF  REBEL  GUERRILLAS  LEAVE 
TEXAS  TO  INVADE  COLORADO— AFTER  A  LONG  RIDE,  WITH  MANY 
EXCITING  INCIDENTS,  THEY  REACH  COLORADO— THEY  ROB  A 
BUCKSKIN   COACH. 

"It's  no  use,  pard;  the  jig  is  up,  and  I'm  goin'  across  the 
range  mighty  short!}'."  The  speaker  was  John  Keynolds — 
miner,  gambler,  rebel  guerrilla,  stage  robber  and  cut-throat — 
as  reckless  a  daredevil  as  ever  met  his  just  deserts  in  the 
whole  West.  The  person  addressed  was  his  partner  in  crime, 
Albert  Brown,  a  desperado  like  himself,  a  man  hardened  to 
scenes  of  bloodshed  and  death,  yet  he  brushed  a  tear  from 
his  eye  as  he  turned  to  get  a  drink  of  water  for  the  dying 
man. 

"If  we  could  only  have  got  to  Denver,  we'd  have  been  all 
right,"  continued  Reynolds.  "I've  got  over  |60,000  buried  not 
fifty  miles  from  there  in  the  mountains,  and  I  could  go  right 
to  the  spot  where  Jim  and  me  buried  it  in  1864.  But  there's 
no  use  in  me  wastin'  breath,  for  I'm  to  the  end  of  my  rope  now, 
an'  I'll  tell  you  just  where  it  is,  so  that  you  can  go  an'  get 
it  after  you've  planted  me  deep  enough  so  the  coyotes  won't 
dig  me  up  an'  gnaw  my  bones." 

The  dying  man  was  sinking  rapidly,  but  he  went  on:  "Jim 
an'  me  buried  it  the  morning  before  the  fight  at  the  grove  on 
Geneva  gulch.  You  go  up  above  there  a  little  ways  and  find 
where  one  of  our  horses  mired  down  in  a  swamp.  On  up  at 
the  head  of  the  gulch  we  turned  to  the  right  and  followed 
the  mountain  around  a  little  farther,  an'  just  above  the  head 
of  Deer  creek  we  found  an  old  prospect  hole  at  about  timber 
line.  There  was  $40,000  in  greenbacks,  wrapped  in  silk  oil 
cloth,  an'  three  cans  of  gold  dust.    We  filled  the  mouth  of  the 


14 


A  HIDDEN  TREASURE. 


hole  up  with  stones,  an'  ten  steps  below  there  stuck  a  butcher 
knife  into  a  tree  about  four  feet  from  the  ground  an'  broke 
the  handle  otf,  an'  left  it  pointing  to  the  mouth  of  the  hole." 

Reynolds  fell  back  exhausted,  and  asked  Brown  for  a  pen- 
cil, so  that  he  could  draw  him  a  map.  Brown  had  no  pencil, 
but  breaking  open  a  cartridge  he  mixed  the  powder  with  some 
water,  and  as  soon  as  Reynolds  had  revived  a  little  he  drew 
a  rude  map  of  the  locality  on  the  back  of  an  old  letter.  Cau- 
tioning Brown  to  remember  his  directions,  he  fell  back  upon 
his  rude  couch,  and  in  a  few  minutes  was  dead. 

Brown  set  to  work  to  digging  a  grave  in  the  dirt  floor 
of  the  dugout,  and  having  no  tools  but  a  sharp  stick,  spent 
two  days  at  the  work.  Ue  placed  Reynolds'  body  in  the  shallow 
grave,  covering  it  up  carefully,  then  carried  stones  and  put 
over  it  in  accordance  with  his  agreement.  As  soon  as  Brown 
completed  his  task,  he  secured  his  horses  and  started  for  Den- 
ver. While  he  is  on  his  wa}'  thither,  we  will  improve  the  op- 
portunity to  relate  the  history  of  the  boldest  band  of  robbers, 
and  indeed,  the  only  party  of  rebel  guerrillas  that  ever  in- 
vaded Colorado,  of  which  John  Reynolds,  whose  death  we  have 
just  chronicled,  was  the  last  surviving  member.  Before  be- 
ginning the  recital  of  our  story  proper,  it  might  be  well  to  give 
a  hasty  sketch  of  the  conditions  prevailing  in  Colorado  at  the 
time  our  story  opens. 

The  population  of  Denver  in  1861  was  decidedly  cosmo- 
politan. The  mining  excitement  had  attracted  hither  men  of 
almost  every  nationality,  profession  and  occupation  on  the 
globe.  On  the  question  of  secession,  then  the  theme  on  every 
tongue,  the  people  seemed  pretty  evenly  divided.  The  Unionists, 
however,  seized  upon  the  opportunity,  and  enlisting  several 
companies  of  militia,  were  soon  masters  of  the  situation.  All 
suspects  were  then  called  up  to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance. 
Those  who  refused  to  do  this  were  thrown  into  jail.  Among 
those  arrested  were  two  brothers,  James  and  John  Reynolds. 
They  belonged  to  a  large  class  of  men  just  upon  the  borderland 
of  crime,  working  in  the  mines,  driving  bull  teams,  steering  for 
gambling  houses,  in  fact,  turning  their  hands  to  whatever  of- 
fered. Jack  Robinson,  a  guard  at  the  jail,  was  a  fitting  com- 
panion for  them,  although  he  had  not  fallen  under  suspicion. 


A  HIDDEN  TREASURE. 


15 


One  night  while  he  was  on  guard,  a  large  party  of  suspects^ 
known  as  the  McKee  party,  broke  jail  and  made  their  escape^ 
probably  through  the  connivance  of  Eobinson.  At  any  rate 
he  carried  food  and  supplies  to  them  while  they  were  con- 
cealed about  the  city,  and  when  they  went  south  to  join  the 
rebel  army,  Robinson  went  with  them. 

Early  in  1864,  James  Reynolds,  who  was  beginning  to 
tire  of  the  restraints  of  military  life,  little  irksome  as  they 
were  among  the  irregulars  under  the  Confederate  flag  in 
Northern  Texas,  found  himself  at  the  head  of  a.  company  of 
fifty  men,  among  Avhom  were  his  brother,  John,  and  Jack 
Robinson.  Then,  too,  Reynolds  had  an  ambition  to  be  a  second 
Quantrell,  to  be  a  freebooter,  going  where  he  pleased  and 
plundering  all  who  were  not  strong  enough  to  resist.  He  be- 
lieved that  with  his  company  he  could  imitate  Quantrell's^ 
famous  raid  on  Lawrence,  overrun  all  Southern  Colorado  and 
burn  and  sack  the  city  of  Denver,  where  he  had  been  im- 
prisoned. The  majority  of  his  men  were  Texans,  and  they  did 
not  relish  the  idea  of  a  500-mile  raid  through  a  hostile  country^ 
so  that  when  he  got  ready  to  start,  in  April,  1864,  he  found 
that  but  twenty-two  of  his  men  would  stay  with  him.  Nothing 
daunted,  he  resolved  to  push  forward  with  this  small  band^ 
fully  believing  that  he  could  get  plenty  of  recruits  in  the  mines^ 
where  rebel  sympathizers  had  been  plentiful  enough  a  few  years 
before.  In  this,  as  we  shall  learn  later,  he  was  badly  dis- 
appointed, never  securing  a  single  recruit.  His  friend.  Col. 
McKee,  gave  them  a  pass  through  to  Belknap,  and  taking  only 
a  few  rations  they  pushed  on  through  the  Confederate  lines. 
Once  through  the  lines  they  rode  swiftly  westward  toward  the 
Spanish  peaks — grim  beacons  in  an  ocean  of  sand.  When  they 
ran  out  of  food  they  killed  their  pack  animals,  and  thus  man- 
aged to  subsist  until  they  struck  the  Santa  Fe  trail. 

They  encountered  a  band  of  hostile  Indians,  but  defeated 
them  without  loss.  A  little  further  along  the  trail  they  met 
a  wagon  train  which  Reynolds  decided  was  too  strong  to  be 
attacked,  so  he  traded  a  horse  for  some  provisions.  A  few 
miles  further  up  the  trail  they  struck  a  Mexican  train,  which 
they  attacked  and  captured.     Here  they  made  a  rich  haul,  se- 


16 


A  HIDDEN  TREASURE. 


curing  |40,000  in  currency,  |6,000  in  drafts  and  about  |2,000 
in  coin.  Taking  arms,  ammunition,  provisions  and  such  mules 
as  they  wanted,  they  proceeded  northward,  leaving  the  Mex- 
icans to  get  along  as  best  they  could.  A  great  deal  of  dissat- 
isfaction had  arisen  among  the  members  of  the  band  on  ac- 
count of  Jim  Keynolds  taking  possession  of  most  of  the  money 
himself.  A  portion  of  the  gang  sided  in  with  Reynolds' 
theory  that  the  captain  should  have  charge  of  the  surplus  funds, 
since  he  proposed  to  arm  and  equip  recruits  as  soon  as  they 
reached  Colorado.  Accordingly  fourteen  of  the  party  quit  the 
gang  and  rode  back  toward  Texas. 

The  little  party  now  consisted  of  but  nine  men:  James 
Reynolds,  John  Reynolds,  Jack  Robinson,  Tom  Knight,  Owen 
Singletary,  John  Babbitt,  Jake  Stowe,  John  Andrews  and  Tom 
Halliman.  That  night  they  held  a  council  of  war.  It  was  de- 
cided to  push  on  to  Pueblo,  then  up  the  Arkansas  into  the 
rich  placer  mining  districts  of  the  South  park.  Here  they 
felt  confident  of  securing  not  only  much  plunder,  but  enough 
recruits  to  swoop  down  on  Denver.  They  cached  a  lot  of  their 
heavy  plunder,  consisting  of  extra  guns,  ammunition  and  sev- 
eral hundred  dollars  of  silver  coin,  which  was  too  heavy  to 
be  carried  easily.  Resting  their  horses,  they  moved  on  toward 
Pueblo.  Crossing  the  Arkansas  at  that  place  they  rode  on  up 
the  river  to  where  Canon  City  now  stands,  where  they  went 
into  camp.  A  man  named  Bradley  kept  a  store  where  the  city 
now  stands,  and  Reynolds  dispatched  several  of  the  gang  with 
plenty  of  money  to  purchase  clothing,  provisions  and  whisky. 
He  did  not  go  near  Bradley  himself,  as  he  feared  that  gentle- 
man would  recognize  him,  and  Reynolds  was  not  yet  ready 
for  trouble.  After  having  secured  their  supplies  they  pushed 
on  to  Current  creek.  Finding  there  plenty  of  grass  and  water 
for  their  horses,  they  decided  to  camp  several  days  for  rest 
and  recuperation. 

After  holding  another  council  they  decided  it  would  be 
better  to  push  on  to  California  gulch  (the  present  site  of.Lead- 
ville)  in  small  squads  so  as  not  to  excite  suspicion.  After  look- 
ing over  the  gulch  for  a  day  or  two  they  decided  that  the 
Buckskin  and  Mosquito  camps  offered  better  opportunities  for 


A  HIDDEN  TREASURE.  29 

plunder.  Accordingly  the  band  reunited  and  came  back  down- 
the  Arkansas,  entering  South  park  below  Fairplay.  They 
stopped  for  the  night  at  Guireaud's  ranch,  and  Capt.  Eeynolds 
had  a  long  talk  with  Guireaud,  with  whom  he  seemed  to  be 
acquainted.  He  wrote  several  letters  to  friends  at  Fairplay, 
and  the  next  morning  inquired  of  Guireaud  what  time  the 
coach  left  Buckskin,  as  he  wanted  to  beat  it  to  McLaughlin's 
ranch  to  mail  his  letters.  They  at  once  set  out  for  the  ranch, 
which  is  ten  miles  from  Fairplay.  On  the  road,  Capt.  Eeynolds 
halted  his  men  and  informed  them  that  he  proposed  to  rob 
the  coach  at  McLaughlin's.  When  they  reached  the  creek  be- 
low the  ranch,  they  met  McLaughlin  and  Maj.  Demere,  and 
took  them  prisoners.  McLaughlin  was  riding  a  verj'  fine  horse, 
and  Capt.  Eeynolds  at  once  suggested  that  they  swap.  McLaugh- 
lin demurred,  but  got  down  when  Eeynolds  and  several  other 
members  of  the  party  drew  their  guns.  Eeaching  the  ranch 
the  party  dismounted  and  put  out  a  picket.  McLaughlin  treated 
the  men  to  some  whisky  and  ordered  his  wife  to  prepare  dinner 
for  the  gang. 

When  the  coach  drew  up,  Eeynolds  stepped  out  and  com- 
manded the  driver,  Abe  Williamson,  and  Billy  McClelland,  the 
superintendent  of  the  stage  line,  who  occupied  the  seat  with 
the  driver,  to  throw  up  their  hands,  one  of  his  men  stepping 
in  front  of  the  horses  at  the  same  time.  Their  hands  went 
up  promptly,  and  after  being  disarmed  by  another  of  the 
gang,  Eeynolds  ordered  them  to  get  down,  at  the  same  time 
demanding  their  money.  Williamson  resented  the  idea  of  his 
having  any  money,  saying  that  it  was  the  first  time  in  all 
his  travels  that  a  stage  driver  had  ever  been  accused  of  having 
any  of  the  long  and  needful  green  about  his  person.  But  his 
talk  didn't  go  with  the  bandits,  and  after  searching  him  care- 
fully they  "found  fifteen  cents,  which  they  took.  Williamson's 
eyes  scowled  hatred,  and  as  will  be  learned  later,  he  finally 
took  an  awful  revenge  for  the  outrage.  They  "shook  down" 
McClellan  with  much  better  results,  securing  $400  in  money 
and  a  valuable  chronometer  balance  gold  watch.  They  then 
turned  their  attention  to  the  express  trunk,  there  being  no 
passengers  on  this  trip.     Halliman   secured  an  axe  to  break 


20  A  HIDDEN  TREASURE. 

it  open,  when  McClellan  oifered  him  the  key.  Reynolds  re- 
fused the  key,  venturing  the  opinion  that  they  could  soon  get 
into  it  without  the  key.  Breaking  it  open  they  took  out 
|G,000  worth  of  gold  dust  and  |2,000  worth  of  gold  amalgam 
that  John  W.  Smith  was  sending  to  the  East,  it  being  the 
first  taken  from  the  Orphan  Boy  mine,  as  well  as  the  first  run 
from  the  stamp  mill  erected  in  Mosquito  gulch.  Capt.  Rey- 
nolds then  ordered  Halliman  to  cut  open  the  mail  bags,  pass- 
ing him  his  dirk  for  the  purpose.  They  tore  open  the  letters, 
taking  what  money  they  contained,  which  was  considerable,  as 
nearly  all  the  letters  contained  ten  and  twenty-dollar  bills^ 
which  the  miners  were  sending  back  to  their  friends  in  the 
East.  The  haul  amounted  to  |10,000  in  all,  a  much  smaller 
sum  than  the  coach  usually  carried  out. 

After  having  secured  all  the  valuables,  Capt.  Reynolds 
ordered  his  men  to  destroy  the  coach,  saying  that  he  wanted 
to  damage  the  United  States  government  as  much  as  possible. 
His  men  at  once  went  to  work  to  chopping  the  spokes  out  of 
the  wheels.  They  ate  the  dinner  prepared  by  Mrs.  McLaughlin, 
and  Capt.  Reynolds  then  announced  his  determination  to  go 
on  to  the  Michigan  ranch  and  secure  the  stage  stock  which 
were  kept  there.  Before  leaving,  he  said  to  McClellan  and 
the  other  captives,  that  if  they  attempted  to  follow  the  bandits 
they  would  be  killed,  and  that  the  best  thing  they  could  do 
would  be  to  remain  quietly  at  the  ranch  for  a  day  or  two, 
adding  that  they  were  only  the  advance  guard  of  1,500  Texas 
rangers  who  were  raiding  up  the  park,  saying  also  that  2,500 
more  Confederate  troops  were  on  their  way  north  and  had 
j)robably  reached  Denver  by  that  time. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  WHOLE  COUNTRY  AROUSED— HUNDREDS  OF  ARMED  MEN  ON 
THEIR  TRAIL— REYNOLDS  BECOMES  ALARMED  AND  BURIES  A 
LARGE  PART  OF  THEIR  PLUNDER— THE  PARTY  ATTACKED  IN 
CAMP— SINGLETARY  KILLED  AND  CAPT.  REYNOLDS  WOUNDED— 
THE  BAND  DISPERSED  AND  NEARLY  ALL  CAPTURED— BROUGHT 
TO   DENVER  AND  SENTENCED  FOR   LIFE. 

They  then  rode  away,  leaving  the  settlers  dumbfounded 
by  the  news.  There  had  long  been  rumors  of  such  a  raid, 
and  there  being  neither  telegraph  nor  railroad,  they  had  no 
means  of  verifying  the  reports.  McClellan  at  once  announced 
his  determination  to  alarm  the  mining  camps  of  their  danger, 
^nd  although  his  friends  endeavored  to  dissuade  him  from  his 
hazardous  trip,  he  mounted  a  mule  and  followed  the  robbers. 
He  rode  through  Hamilton,  Tarryall  and  Fairplaj^,  spreading 
the  news  and  ts^arning  out  citizens  and  miners,  arriving  in  due 
time  at  Buckskin.  From  there  he  sent  runners  to  California 
Gulch  and  other  camps.  McClellan  himself  stayed  in  the  saddle 
almost  night  and  day  for  over  a  week,  and  in  that  time  had 
the  whole  country  aroused.  His  energy  and  determined  fear- 
lessness probabl}"  saved  many  lives  and  thousands  of  dollars 
worth  of  property. 

Active  measures  were  now  taken  for  the  capture  of  the 
guerrillas.  Armed  bodies  of  miners  and  ranchmen  started  on 
their  trail.  Col,  Chivington  sent  troops  from  Denver  to  guard 
coaches  and  to  assist  in  the  capture.  Gen.  Cook,  at  that  time 
chief  of  government  detectives  for  the  department  of  Colorado, 
accompanied  the  troojjs,  and  was  soon  on  the  trail  of  the 
marauders.  The  news  that  a  band  of  armed  guerrillas  was 
scouring  the  country  w-as  dispatched  by  courier  to  Central  City, 
and  all  the  camps  in  that  vicinity  were  notified.  Even  south 
of  the  divide,  at  Pueblo  and  Cailon,  companies  were  organized, 
and  it  was  but  a  question  of  a  few  days  at  least  when  the 
band  would  be   wiped  out.     Indeed,  if  there   had  been   4,000 


22  A  HIDDEN  TREASUKE. 

of  them  as  Reynolds  had  reported,  instead  of  a  little  band  of 
nine,  they  would  have  been  gobbled  up  in  short  order. 

Reaching  the  Michigan  house  the  guerrillas  took  the  stage 
horses  and  robbed  the  men  who  kept  the  station.  Going  on 
they  passed  the  Kenosha  house,  stopping  at  various  ranches 
and  taking  whatever  they  wanted,  and  robbing  everybody  they 
met.  Passing  Parmelee's  and  Haight's,  they  camped  near  the 
deserted  St.  Louis  house,  and  at  daybreak  moved  on  to  the 
Omaha  house  for  breakfast.  Besides  refusing  to  pay  for  their 
meal,  they  robbed  all  the  travelers  camped  around  the  station 
except  an  Irishman  hauling  freight  to  Georgia  gulch.  He 
gave  them  the  pass  word  and  grips  of  the  Knights  of  the 
Golden  Circle,  and  was  allowed  to  go  on  unmolested.  While 
here  they  found  out  that  large  bodies  of  citizens  were  in  pur- 
suit, and  they  decided  to  move  off  the  main  road;  so  after  leav- 
ing the  Omaha  house  they  turned  off  and  went  up  Deer  creek 
to  the  range.  Just  after  they  had  gotten  off  the  road  into 
the  timber  a  posse  of  twenty-two  mounted  men  passed  up  the 
road  toward  the  Omaha  house.  After  awhile  they  saw  another 
party  evidently  following  their  trail.  Capt.  Reynolds  took  a 
spyglass,  and  finding  that  there  were  but  eighteen  of  them  de- 
cided to  fight.  He  strung  his  men  out  in  single  file  in  order 
to  make  a  plain  trail,  and  after  going  about  a  mile,  doubled 
back  and  ambushed  his  men  at  the  side  of  the  trail.  For- 
tunately for  the  pursuing  party,  they  turned  back  before  they 
were  in  gunshot  of  the  guerrillas.  Whether  they  scented  dan- 
ger, or  were  tired  of  following  what  they  thought  was  a  cold 
trail,  is  not  known,  but  it  was  probably  the  latter,  as  the  Rey- 
nolds gang  was  not  molested  that  day  nor  the  next,  although 
with  the  aid  of  his  glass  Reynolds  saw  scouting  parties  scour- 
ing the  mountains  in  every  direction.  He  saw  that  they  were 
likely  to  be  captured  and  resolved  to  scatter  the  band  in  order 
to  escape,  hoping  to  be  able  to  rendezvous  away  down  near 
the  Greenhorn. 

Capt.  Reynolds  decided  that  it  would  be  prudent  to  con- 
ceal the  greater  portion  of  their  spoils  until  the  excitement 
had  died  down  somewhat.  Calling  his  brother,  John,  they 
passed  up  the  little  creek  that  ran  by  their  camp  until  they 


< 
O 

m 
o 

M 

o 
o 

m 


A  HIDDEN  TREASURE.  25 

reached  its  head.  Elk  creek  also  heads  near  there.  They  found 
a  jH'ospect  hole  which  the}'  thought  would  answer  their  pur- 
pose. Capt.  Kevnolds  took  from  his  saddle-bags  |40,000  in  cur- 
rency and  three  cans  full  of  gold  dust,  about  $63,000  in  all, 
leaving  one  large  can  of  gold  dust  and  considerable  currency 
to  be  divided  among  the  band  before  separating.  They  wrapped 
the  currency  up  in  a  piece  of  silk  oil  cloth  and  put  it  and  the 
cans  back  in  the  hole  about  the  length  of  a  man's  body.  Re- 
turning to  the  camp,  Capt.  Reynolds  told  his  men  that  there 
were  no  pursuers  in  sight,  and  announced  his  determination  to 
disperse  the  band  temporarily,  as  he  believed  there  was  no 
chance  of  escape  if  they  remained  together.  He  described  the 
place  of  rendezvous  mentioned,  and  told  them  that  it  would 
be  safe  to  move  on  down  to  a  grove  of  large  trees  on  Geneva 
gulch,  a  short  distance  below,  and  camp  for  dinner,  as  there 
was  no  one  in  sight.  They  w^ent  on  down  and  camped,  and 
turned  their  horses  loose  to  graze  while  dinner  was  being 
gotten. 

Two  of  the  men  were  getting  dinner,  and  the  others  were 
gathered  around  Capt.  Reynolds,  who  was  busily  dividing  the 
remaining  money  and  gold  dust  among  them,  when  suddenly  a 
dozen  guns  cracked  from  behind  some  large  rocks  about  220  yards 
from  the  outlaws'  camp.  Owen  Singletary  fell  dead,  and  Capt. 
Reynolds,  who  was  at  that  moment  dipping  gold  dust  from  a 
can  with  a  spoon,  was  wounded  in  the  arm.  The  outlaws  at 
once  broke  for  the  brush,  a  few  even  leaving  their  horses. 

The  attacking  party,  which  consisted  of  twelve  or  fifteen 
men  from  Gold  Run  under  the  leadership  of  Jack  Sparks,  had 
crawled  around  the  mountain  unobserved  until  they  reached 
the  rocks,  and  then  fired  a  volley  into  the  i  obbcn*  band.  When 
the  robbers  took  to  the  brush,  they  wont  down  to  their  camp 
and  secured  several  horses,  the  can  of  gold  dust,  the  amalgam 
that  was  taken  from  the  coach  at  McLaughlin's,  Billy  McClellan's 
watch,  and  a  lot  of  arms,  etc.  It  was  coming  on  night,  and 
after  searching  the  gulches  for  a  while  in  vain.  Ihey  cut  off 
Singletary's  head,  which  they  took  to  Fairplay  as  a  trophy  of 
the  fight.     This  was  July  31,  1SG4. 

The  next  day  Halliman  was  captured  iil   \\\r  Nineteen-mile 


26 


A  HIDDEN  TREASURE. 


ranch,  and  they  kept  picking  up  the  guerrillas  one  or  two  at  a 
time  until  the  Thirty-nine-mile  ranch  was  reached.  John  Rey- 
nolds and  Jake  Stowe,  who  were  traveling  together,  were  pur- 
sued clear  across  the  Arkansas  river,  but  they  finally  escaped, 
although  Stowe  was  severely  wounded. 

The  remainder  of  the  party  were  brought  from  Fairplay  to 
Denver  under  a  heavy  guard  and  placed  in  jail.  They  were 
given  a  sham  trial,  and  as  it  could  not  be  proven  that  they 
had  taken  life  they  were  sentenced  to  imprisonment  for  life, 
although  a  great  many  of  the  citizens  thought  they  richly  de- 
served hanging.  While  the  party  were  in  jail  in  Denver,  Gen. 
Cook  had  a  long  talk  with  Jim  Reynolds,  the  captain,  and  tried 
to  find  out  from  him  what  disposition  had  been  made  of  all 
the  money  and  valuables  the  robbers  were  known  to  have  cap- 
tured, knowing  that  they  must  have  concealed  it  somewhere, 
since  they  had  but  little  when  captured.  Reynolds  refused  to 
tell,  saying  that  it  was  "safe  enough,"  and  afterwards  adding 
they  had  "sent  it  home." 


CHAPTER  in. 

THEY  ARE  STARTED  TO  FORT  LYON— THEY  UNDERSTAND  THAT  THEY 
ARE  TO  BE  KILLED— A  BLOODTHIRSTY  SERGEANT  AND  A  BUNG- 
LING EXECUTION— LEFT  FOR  DEAD,  JOHN  ANDREWS  ESCAPES— 
THE  GANG  FINALLY  WIPED  OUT— UNSUCCESSFUL  SEARCH  FOR 
THE  BURIED  TREASURE. 

About  the  first  week  in  September  the  Third  Colorado  cav- 
alry, commanded  by  Col.  Chivington,  was  ordered  out  against 
the  Indians.  Capt.  Cree,  of  Company  A,  was  directed  to  take 
the  six  prisoners  from  the  county  jail  to  Fort  Lyon  for  "safe 
keeping/'  and  to  shoot  every  one  of  them  if  ''they  made  any 
attempt  to  escape,"  The  prisoners  knew  that  they  would  be 
shot  if  the  soldiers  could  find  the  slightest  pretext  for  so  doing. 
The  troop  was  composed  of  citizens  of  Denver  and  vicinity,  some 
of  whom  had  suffered  from  the  depredations  of  the  gang.  One 
man  they  particularly  feared  was  Sergt.  Abe  Williamson,  who, 
it  will  be  remembered,  drove  the  coach  which  they  robbed  at 
McLaughlin's.  As  they  left  the  jail,  Jim  Reynolds  called  out  to 
Gen.  Cook,  who  stood  near  watching  the  procession  start,  "Good- 
bye, Dave;  this  is  the  end  of  us."  He  did  not  know  how  soon 
his  prediction  was  to  be  fulfilled. 

The  first  night  out  they  camped  eight  miles  from  Denver,  on 
Cherry  creek.  The  prisoners  were  given  an  opportunity  to  es- 
cape, but  they  knew  better  than  to  try  it.  The  next  day  the 
troops  moved  on  to  Russelville,  where  they  camped  for  the  night. 
Again  the  prisoners  were  given  a  chance  to  escape,  but  were 
afraid  to  try  it. 

The  next  morning  they  were  turned  over  to  a  new  guard, 
under  command  of  Sergt.  Williamson.  They  were  marched  about 
five  miles  from  camp,  and  halted  near  an  abandoned  log  cabin. 
Williamson  now  told  the  prisoners  that  they  were  to  be  shot; 
that  they  had  violated  not  only  the  civil  but  the  military 
law,  and  that  he  had  orders  for  their  execution.  Capt.  Reynolds 
pleaded  with  him  to  spare  their  lives,  reminding  him  of  the  time 


28  A  HIDDEN  TREASURE. 

when  tlie  robbers  bad  him  in  their  power  and  left  him  unharmed. 
Williamson's  only  reply  was  the  brutal  retort  that  they  ''had 
better  use  what  little  time  they  still  had  on  earth  to  make  their 
peace  with  their  Maker."  They  were  then  blindfolded,  the  sold- 
iers stepped  back  ten  paces,  and  Sergt.  Williamson  gave  the 
order,  "Make  ready!"  ''Ready!"  "Aim!"  "Fire!"  The  sight  of 
six  unarmed,  blindfolded,  manacled  prisoners  being  stood  up  in 
a  row  to  be  shot  down  like  dogs  unnerved  the  soldiers,  and  at 
the  command  to  fire  they  raised  their  pieces  and  fired  over  the 
prisoners,  so  that  but  one  man  was  killed,  Capt.  Reynolds,  and 
lie  was  at  the  head  of  the  line  opposite  Williamson.  Williamson 
remarked  that  they  were  "rnighly  poor  shots,"  and  ordered  them 
to  reload.  Then  several  of  the  men  flatly  announced  that  they 
would  not  be  parties  to  any  such  cold-blooded  murder,  and  threw 
down  their  guns,  while  two  or  three  fired  over  their  heads  again 
at  the  second  fire,  but  Williamson  killed  his  second  man.  Seeing 
that  he  had  to  do  all  the  killing  himself,  Williamson  began 
cursing  the  cowardice  of  his  men,  and  taking  a  gun  from  one  of 
them,  shot  his  third  man.  At  this  juncture,  one  of  his  men  spoke 
up  and  said  he  would  help  Williamson  finish  the  sickening  job. 
Suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  he  raised  his  gun  and  fired,  and 
the  fourth  man  fell  dead.  Then  he  weakened,  and  Williamson 
was  obliged  to  finisii  the  other  two  with  his  revolver.  The  irons 
were  then  removed  from  the  prisoners,  and  their  bodies  were  left 
on  the  prairie  to  be  devoured  by  the  coyotes.  Williamson  and  his 
men  rejoined  their  command  and  proceeded  on  to  Fort  Lyon, 
with  Williamson  evidently  rejoicing  in  the  consciousness  of  duty 
well  done. 

Several  hours  afterward  one  of  the  prisoners,  John  Andrews, 
recovered  consciousness.  Although  shot  through  the  breast,  he 
managed  to  crawl  to  the  cabin  and  dress  his  wound  as  best  he 
could.  He  found  a  quantity  of  dried  buffalo  meat,  left  there  by 
the  former  occupants,  ujjon  which  he  managed  to  subsist  for 
several  days,  crawling  to  a  spring  near  by  for  water.  About  a 
week  later,  Andrews,  who  had  recovered  wonderfully,  hailed  a 
horseman  who  was  passing,  and  asked  him  to  carry  a  note  to  a 
friend  in  the  suburbs  of  Denver.  The  stranger  agreed  to  do 
this,  and  Andrews  eagerly  awaited  the  coming  of  his  friend, 


m 

OQ 

o 


o 

o 

P 
O 

X 


A  HIDDEN  TREASURE.  3| 

taking  the  precaution,  however,  to  secrete  himself  near  the  cabin 
for  fear  the  stranger  might  betray  him.  On  the  third  day  a  cov- 
ered wagon  drove  up  to  the  cabin,  and  he  was  delighted  to  hear 
the  voice  of  his  friend  calling  him.  His  friend,  who  was  J.  N. 
Cochran,  concealed  him  in  the  wagon,  and  taking  him  home, 
secured  medical  attendance,  and  by  careful  nursing  soon  had  him 
restored  to  health  and  his  wounds  entirely  healed.  While  stay- 
ing with  Cochran,  Andrews  related  to  him  the  history  of  the 
guerrilla  band  as  it  is  given  here,  with  the  exception  of  the 
story  of  the  buried  treasure,  which  neither  he  nor  any  of  the 
other  members  of  the  band,  except  Jim  and  John  Reynolds,  knew 
anything  about. 

When  he  had  fully  recovered,  Andrews  decided  to  make  an 
effort  to  find  John  Reynolds  and  Stowe,  who,  he  thought,  had 
probably  gone  south  to  Santa  Fe.  Cochran  gave  him  a  horse, 
and  leaving  Denver  under  cover  of  darkness,  he  rode  southward. 
Reaching  Santa  Fe,  he  soon  found  Reynolds  and  Stowe,  and  the 
three  survivors  decided  to  go  up  on  the  Cimarron,  where  they 
had  cached  a  lot  of  silver  and  other  plunder  taken  from  the 
Mexican  wagon  train  on  the  way  out  from  Texas.  Their  horses 
giving  out,  they  attacked  a  Mexican  ranch  to  get  fresh  ones. 
During  the  fight  Stowe  was  killed,  but  Reynolds  and  Andrews 
succeeded  in  getting  a  couple  of  fresh  horses  and  making  their 
escape.  They  rode  on  to  the  Cimarron,  and  found  the  stuff 
they  had  hidden,  and  then  started  back  over  the  old  trail  for 
Texas.  The  second  day  out,  they  were  overtaken  by  a  posse 
of  Mexicans  from  the  ranch  where  they  had  stolen  the  horses, 
and  after  a  running  fight  of  two  or  three  miles,  Andrews  was 
killed.  Reynolds  escaped  down  the  dry  bed  of  a  small  arroyo, 
and  finally  succeeded  in  eluding  his  pursuers.  Returning  to 
Santa  Fe,  he  changed  his  name  to  Will  Wallace,  and  lived  there 
and  in  small  towns  in  that  vicinity  for  several  years,  making  a 
living  as  a  gambler.  Tiring  of  the  monotony  of  this  kind  of  a  life, 
Reynolds  formed  a  partnership  with  another  desperado  by  the 
name  of  Albert  Brown,  and  again  started  out  in  the  hold-up 
business.  They  soon  made  that  country  too  hot  to  hold  them, 
and  in  October,  1871,  they  started  toward  Denver. 

When  near  the  INfexican  town  of  Taos,  they  attempted  to 


32 


A  HIDDEN  TREASURE. 


steal  fresh  horses  from  a  ranch  one  night,  and  Reynolds  was- 
mortally  wounded  bj  two  Mexicans,  who  were  guarding  the  cor- 
ral. Brown  killed  both  of  them,  and  throwing  Reynolds  across 
his  horse,  carried  him  for  several  miles.  At  length  he  found  an 
abandoned  dugout  near  a  little  stream.  Leaving  his  wounded 
comrade  there,  he  set  out  to  conceal  their  horses  after  having 
made  Reynolds  as  comfortable  as  possible.  He  found  a  little 
valley  where  there  was  plenty  of  grass  and  water,  about  two- 
miles  up  the  canon.  Leaving  his  horses  there,  he  hastened  back 
to  the  dugout,  where  he  found  Reynolds  in  a  dj^ing  condition,, 
and  the  conversation  related  in  the  first  chapter  of  this  story  took 
place. 

Brown  pushed  on  northward  to  Pueblo,  intending  to  push 
his  way  along  the  Arkansas  on  up  into  the  park,  but  found  that 
the  snow  was  already  too  deep.  Returning  to  Pueblo,  he  pushed 
on  to  Denver.  He  stayed  there  all  winter,  selling  his  horses  and 
living  upon  the  proceeds.  When  spring  came  he  was  broke,  but 
had  by  chance  made  the  acquaintance  of  J.  N.  Cochran,  who 
had  befriended  John  Andrews,  one  of  the  gang,  years  before.. 


S\PARK 


Reynold's  Map.    Star  shows  location  of  treasure. 


Finding  that  Cochran  already  knew  a  great  deal  about  the  gang,, 
and  needing  some  one  who  had  money  enough  to  prosecute  the 
search,  he  decided  to  take  Cochran  into  his  confidence.    Cochran. 


A  HIDDEN  TREASURE. 


83 


was  an  old  '58  pioneer,  and  had  been  all  over  tlie  region  Avliere 
the  treasure  was  hidden,  and  knowing?  that  Brown,  who  had 
never  been  in  Colorado  before,  could  not  possibly  have  made  so 
accurate  a  map  of  the  locality  himself,  agreed  to  fit  out  an 
outfit  to  search  for  the  treasure.  They  took  the  map  drawn  by 
Reynolds  while  dying,  and  followed  the  directions  very  carefully, 
going  into  the  park  by  the  stage  road  over  Kenosha  hill,  then 
following  the  road  down  the  South  Platte  to  Geneva  gulch,  a 
small  stream  flowing  into  the  Platte.  Pursuing  their  way  up  the 
gulch,  they  were  surprised  at  the  absence  of  timber,  except  young 
groves  of  ''quaking  asp,"'  which  had  aiJjiarently  grown  up  within 
^  few  years.  They  soon  found  that  a  terrible  forest  fire  had 
swept  over  the  entire  region  only  a  short  time  after  the  outlaws 
were  captured,  destroying  all  landmarks  so  far  as  timber  was 
concerned. 

They  searched  for  several  days,  finding  an  old  white  hat, 
supposed  to  be  Singletary's,  near  where  the}^  supposed  the  battle 
to  have  taken  place,  and  above  there  some  distance  a  swamp, 
in  which  the  bones  of  a  horse  were  found,  but  thev  could  not 
find  any  signs  of  a  cave.  Kunning  out  of  provisions  they  re- 
turned to  Denver,  and  after  outfitting  once  more  returned  to  the 
search,  this  time  going  in  by  way  of  Hepburn's  ranch.  They 
found  the  skeleton  of  a  man,  minus  the  head  (which  is  preserved 
in  a  jar  of  alcohol  at  Fairplay),  supposed  to  be  the  remains  of 
Owen  Singletary.  They  searched  carefully  over  all  the  terri- 
tory shown  on  the  map,  but  failed  to  find  the  treasure  cave. 
Cochran  finally  gave  up  the  search,  and  he  and  Brown  returned 
again  to  Denver. 

Brown  afterward  induced  two  other  men  to  go  with  him  on 
a  third  expedition,  which  proved  as  fruitless  as  the  other  two 
trips.  On  their  return.  Brown  and  his  companions,  one  of 
whom  was  named  Bevens  and  the  other  an  unknown  man,  held 
up  the  coach  near  Morrison  and  secured  about  $3,000.  Brown 
loafed  around  Denver  until  his  money  was  all  gone,  when  he 
stole  a  team  of  mules  from  a  man  in  West  Denver,  and  skipped 
out,  but  was  captured  with  the  mules  in  Jefferson  county  by 
Marshal  Hopkins.  Brown  was  brought  to  Denver  and  put  in 
jail,  while  Gen.  Cook  was  serving  his  second  term  as  sheriff. 


34  A   HIDDEN  TREASURE. 

When  Sheriff  Willoughby  took  charge  in  1873,  Brown  slipped 
away  from  the  jailer  and  concealed  himself  until  he  had  an  op- 
portunity to  escape.  He  went  to  Cheyenne,  and  from  there  to 
Laramie  City,  where  he  was  killed  in  a  drunken  row. 

Gen.  Cook  secured  Brown's  map,  and  a  full  account  of  the 
outlaw's  career  substantially  as  given  here,  and  although  he  has 
had  many  opportunities  to  sell  it  to  parties  who  wished  to  hunt 
for  the  treasure,  he  declined  all  of  them,  preferring  rather  to 
wait  for  the  publication  of  this  work.  There  is  no  question  but 
that  the  treasure  is  still  hidden  in  the  mountain,  and,  although 
the  topography  of  the  country  has  been  changed  somewhat  in 
the  last  thirtj^-three  years  by  forest  fires,  floods  and  snow-slides, 
some  one  may  yet  be  fortunate  enough  to  find  it. 


CAPTURE  OF  THE  ALLISON  GANG. 
CHAPTER  IV. 

A  BAND  OF  STAGE  ROBBERS  IN  SOUTHERN  COLORADO  TERRORIZE 
THE  WHOLE  COUNTRY— THEY  EVEN  LOOT  ENTIRE  TOWNS— A 
BIG  REWARD  OFFERED— CAPTURED  BY  FRANK  HYATT,  ONE  OF 
THE  SHINING  LIGHTS  OF  THE  ASSOCIATION,  WITHOUT  A  SHOT 
BEING  FIRED. 

Frank  A.  Hyatt,  of  Alamosa,  Colo.,  assistant  superintendent 
of  the  Rocky  I^Iountain  Detective  Association  for  the  district 
embracing  Arizona,  New  Mexico  and  southern  Colorado,  has  a 
greater  string  of  captures  of  criminals  and  desperadoes  to  his 
credit  than  any  other  officer  in  that  section.  He  served  three 
years  as  city  marshal  of  Alamosa,  when  that  town  was  accounted 
one  of  the  toughest  places  in  the  Southwest,  and  has  been  for 
twenty  years  deputy  sheriff  of  Conejos  county,  Colorado.  The 
people  of  that  section  have  learned  to  appreciate  his  worth,  and 
when  desperate  criminals  are  to  be  taken  Frank  Hyatt  is  the 
first  man  called  upon.  Plain,  modest  and  unassuming,  Mr. 
Hyatt  does  not  pose  as  a  man-killer,  although  he  has  more  than 
once  taken  his  life  in  his  hands  in  desperate  encounters  with 
criminals,  and  has  been  compelled  to  take  human  life  to  save 
his  ow^n.  His  rule  has  been  to  capture  his  men  by  strategy, 
leaving  the  law  to  deal  justice  to  them,  rather  than  to  kill  them 
in  trying  to  make  arrests.  He  is  still  deputy  sheriff  of  Conejos 
county,  and  his  name  is  as  much  of  a  terror  to  evil-doers  as  of 
old,  although  he  does  not  employ  as  much  of  his  time  in  hunt- 
ing bad  men  as  he  did  in  the  early  '80's.  In  fact,  the  bad  men 
have  learned  to  shun  his  section  pretty  carefully. 

Mr.  Hyatt  is  engaged  in  the  manufacture  and  sale  of  a  pat- 
ent handcuff,  the  best  thing  of  the  kind  made,  of  which  he  is  also 
the  inventor.  It  is  known  as  the  "Dead  Cinch,"  and  once  it  is 
snapped  on  a  prisoner  he  can  not  escape.  Give  him  the  key 
and  he  can  not  unlock  it;  still  his  hands  have  more  freedom 


30 


CAPTURE  OF  THE  ALLISON  GANG. 


than  with  the  old-stjle  handcuff.     One  hand  can  be  loosened 
to  allow  the  prisoner  to  feed  himself,  while  the  other  is  held 


«  DEAD  CINCH  "  HAND  CUFFS. 

fast  in  its  grip.  It  is  almost  indispensable  to  officers,  who  have 
charge  of  desperadoes,  or  even  of  the  insane,  as  hundreds  of 
sheriffs,  policemen  and  other  officers  scattered  over  Colorado, 
New  Mexico,  Arizona  and  Utah  can  attest. 

One  of  Mr.  Hyatt's  greatest  exploits  was  the  capture  of  the 
Allison  gang  of  stage  robbers  in  1881,  shortly  after  he  became 
a  member  of  the  association.  This  gang  was  composed  of  Charles 
Allison,  Lewis  Perkins  and  Henry  Watts.  Allison  was  a  Ne- 
vada horse  thief,  who  had  escaped  from  Sheriff  Mat.  Kyle,  of 
Virginia  City,  while  that  officer  was  conveying  him  to  the  state 
penitentiary  at  Carson  City,  after  his  conviction  and  sentence 
for  ten  3'ears,  in  1878,  by  jumping  from  the  train.  He  made  his 
escape  and  came  to  Colorado.  In  some  way  he  ingratiated  him- 
self into  the  good  opinion  of  Sheriff  Joe  Smith,  of  Conejos  county, 
and  was  made  a  deputy  sheriff.  For  a  time  he  performed  the 
duties  of  his  position  very  satisfactorily,  but  he  finally  drifted 
into  the  holdup  business,  while  still  a  deputy  sheriff,  with  Per- 
kins and  Watts  as  his  partners. 

Alamosa,  in  the  spring  of  1881,  was  the  terminus  of  the 
Denver  and  Rio  Grande  railroad,  and  stages  ran  from  there  in 
nearly  every  direction.  This  afforded  a  fruitful  field  for  the  rob- 
bers and  in  less  than  a  month  they  had  robbed  five  coaches, 
securing  plunder  worth  several  thousand  dollars.  Emboldened 
by  their  successes,  they  decided  to  operate  on  a  larger  scale, 
and  riding  into  Chama,  X.  M.,  they  terrorized  the  inhabitants 
by  firing  off  their  revolvers.    When  most  of  the  inhabitants  had 


CAPTURE  OF  THE  ALLISON  GANG.  37 

sought  places  of  safety,  they  went  through  the  stores  at  their 
leisure,  taking  all  the  money  they  could  find  and  what  other 
^    stuff  they  wanted.     A  few  days  later  they  repeated  the  experi- 
ment at  Pagosa  Springs,  Colo.,  and  were  again  successful. 

By  this  time  the  people  were  thoroughly  aroused.  Gov. 
Pitkin  offered  $1,000  reward  for  the  capture  of  Allison,  and  |2o0 
each  for  the  other  two,  and  the  stage  company  offered  an  addi- 
tional |250,  which  last,  we  may  remark  parenthetically,  was 
never  paid.  Notwithstanding  the  heavy  rewards  offered,  no  one 
seemed  to  care  about  hunting  up  the  outlaws.  They  were  known 
to  be  well  armed  and  equipped,  and  it  was  thought  that  as  they 
would  in  all  probability  be  lynched  if  caught,  they  would  not 
surrender,  preferring  rather  to  die  fighting.  Judge  Hayt,  now 
chief  justice  of  the  state  supreme  court,  was  at  that  time  district 
attorney  for  the  twelfth  district,  with  headquarters  at  Alamosa. 
He  sent  for  Hyatt  and  asked  him  if  he  would  not  go  after  the 
robbers  if  he  would  issue  a  warrant.  He  replied  that  while 
everybody  thought  they  couldn't  be  taken,  and  that  he  was  only 
a  young  and  inexperienced  officer,  he  would  do  his  best. 

Hayt  issued  the  warrant,  and  Hyatt  secured  the  services 
of  Hank  Dorris,  an  old  ranchman,  on  whom  he  could  rely;  Miles 
Blaine,  an  Alamosa  saloon  keeper,  and  Cy.  Afton,  a  painter, 
and  at  once  started  after  the  gang.  It  was  soon  learned  that 
they  had  gone  almost  due  south  from  Chama,  and  Hyatt  divined 
immediately  that  they  had  gone  to  Albuquerque,  N.  M.  Putting 
his  men  on  the  train,  they  all  rode  to  Espaiiola,  the  end  of  the 
road,  and  from  there  they  went  by  stage  on  to  Santa  Fe,  and 
then  took  the  train  for  Albuquerque.  Hyatt  felt  sure  that  the 
robbers  would  cross  the  Rio  Grande  at  that  point,  so  he  put 
his  men  to  guarding  the  bridge,  while  he  inquired  about  town 
to  learn  whether  they  had  already  passed  through  or  not.  He 
could  find  no  traces  of  them,  so  he  concluded  that  they  had  not 
yet  reached  the  city.  After  waiting  all  day  and  all  night,  Hyatt 
decided  to  leave  his  men  there,  and  go  back  up  the  road  himself 
to  Bernalillo,  eighteen  miles  above,  to  look  for  them  there. 

Hyatt  got  off  the  train  at  Bernalillo  and  went  into  a  res- 
taurant to  get  breakfast,  and  while  he  was  eating  who  should 
walk  in  but  the  verv  men  he  was  after  I     Thev  set  their  three 


38  CAPTURE  OF  THE  ALLISON  GANG. 

Winchesters  by  the  door,  and  as  they  seated  themselves  at  the 
table  Allison  drew  his  two  revolvers  from  his  belt  and  laid  them 
on  his  lap. 

It  was  a  trying  moment.  Allison  had  been  slightly  ac- 
quainted with  Hyatt,  while  they  were  both  serving  as  deputy 
sheriffs  of  Conejos  county,  and  had  the  detective  given  a  sign 
of  recognition  would  have  shot  him  dead  before  he  could  reach 
a  gun.  Hvatt's  face  remained  as  immovable  as  that  of  the 
Sphinx.  He  simply  looked  up,  said  ''Good  morning,  gentlemen," 
and  weut  on  nonchalantly  eating  his  breakfast. 

His  conduct  disarmed  the  suspicions  of  the  men,  and  when 
he  had  finished  his  meal  he  walked  out  as  unconcernedly  as  if 
there  were  no  stage  robbers  within  a  thousand  miles.  He  went 
to  the  depot,  where  he  could  watch  their  movements,  and  when 
they  had  come  out  and  rode  off  southward  sent  a  dispatch  to 
his  assistants  at  Albuquerque  to  meet  them  on  their  way,  and 
telling  them  that  he  would  follow  on  horseback.  Then  he  went 
to  looking  for  a  horse.  There  was  none  to  be  had.  Finally  an 
old  Mexican  drove  in  with  two  fine  horses  hitched  to  a  wagon. 
After  some  parley,  he  agreed  to  furnish  a  horse  and  go  with 
Hyatt  for  $100.  They  set  out  and  followed  the  robbers,  keeping 
within  sight  of  them,  until  they  stopped  about  two  miles  from 
Albuquerque. 

Meanwhile  they  had  seen  no  signs  of  Dorris,  Blaine  and 
Afton,  who  should  have  met  them  before  this.  Hyatt  and  the 
Mexican  cut  across  toward  town  and  found  their  men  just  sad- 
dling up  to  start,  having  only  just  then  received  the  telegram. 
The  robbers  had  camped  within  sight  of  town,  and  Hyatt  thought 
they  might  be  decoyed  into  town  and  taken  without  bloodshed. 
He  knew  that  somebody  would  be  killed  if  they  attempted  to 
capture  them  in  their  camp. 

At  this  juncture,  Jeff  Grant,  a  liveryman,  volunteered  to 
go  out  to  the  robbers'  camp  and  try  to  bring  them  in.  He  got  on 
a  bareback  horse,  and  pretended  to  be  looking  for  horses  that 
had  strayed  off.  He  went  up  to  the  camp,  inquiring  about  horses, 
and  finally  struck  up  a  conversation  with  them.  Allison  told 
him  they  were  on  their  way  to  Lincoln  county,  N.  M.,  Grant 
fell  in  with  the  idea  at  once,  and  told  Allison  that  he  wanted 


M 


ID 

3 

cr 

(S 

3 

3 


ee 
bD 

a 
a 

O 

a 
o 

m 


<D 
43 


<D 

(-1 
t-i 

< 


CAPTURE  OF  THE  ALLISON  GANG.  4| 

to  go  down  there  himself  about  the  19th  of  June  (this  was  Sat- 
urday, tlie  17th),  and  would  like  to  have  them  wait  and  go  with 
him.  Thej  claimed  they  were  short  of  funds,  but  Grant  told 
them  that  he  owned  a  livery  stable,  and  that  it  should  not  cost 
them  anything  to  stay  over  a  couple  of  days  and  rest  up.  He 
added  that  the  reason  he  wanted  them  to  go  with  him  was  that 
he  was  going  to  take  down  a  string  of  race  horses  and  quite  a 
sum  of  money  to  back  them  with,  and  as  the  country  was  in- 
fested with  thieves  and  desperadoes,  he  did  not  like  to  go  alone. 

This  decided  the  robbers.  Here  was  a  good  chance  to  rest 
up  their  jaded  animals  at  some  one  else's  expense,  and  also  a 
prospect  of  some  very  good  picking  afterward.  Of  course,  they 
would  wait  and  go  along  with  him  if  that  was  the  case. 

Pretty  soon  Hyatt  and  his  men  saw  the  four  men  come  rid- 
ing into  town.  They  hastily  concealed  themselves  in  the  barn, 
Hyatt  climbing  into  the  hay  mow,  and  the  others  getting  back 
in  the  mangers.  They  had  but  a  minute  to  wait.  The  men  rode 
into  the  barn,  dismounted,  and  Grant  led  the  horses  back. 

The  three  men  stood  close  together.  "Throw  up  your 
hands!"  commanded  Hjatt.  They  hesitated  a  moment,  but  when 
they  caught  the  gleam  of  a  Winchester  only  a  few  feet  from  their 
heads,  three  pairs  of  hands  shot  up  instanter.  They  were  dis- 
armed and  put  in  chains  in  a  few  moments,  and  telegrams  were 
sent  out  announcing  their  capture. 

Some  of  the  local  authorities  were  disposed  to  interfere  in 
the  case,  and  to  avoid  any  trouble  in  getting  a  requisition,  Hyatt 
agreed  to  turn  over  the  |500  reward  offered  by  Gov.  Shelton  of 
New  Mexico  to  them.  It  was  a  cowardly  holdup,  but  Hyatt 
couldn't  well  help  himself,  as  the  big  end  of  the  reward  was 
offered  by  Gov.  Pitkin,  and  he  had  to  get  the  prisoners  to  Colo- 
rado in  order  to  get  it. 

They  were  allowed  to  depart  with  their  prisoners,  and  in 
due  time  reached  Alamosa  without  further  incident.  They  placed 
them  in  jail,  and  Hyatt,  almost  worn  out  with  loss  of  sleep, 
went  home  and  went  to  bed.  In  a  few  minutes  he  was  awak- 
ened by  a  messenger  from  Mayor  Broadwell  saying  that  a  mob 
was  being  formed  to  take  the  prisoners  from  the  jail  and  lynch 
them.     Hvatt  at  once  gathered  a  crowd  of  his  friends,  among 


42  CAPTURE  OF  THE  ALLISON  GANG. 

whom  were  Judge  Hayt,  Mayor  Broadwell,  Hon.  Alva  Adams, 
now  governor  of  Colorado,  and  a  number  of  others,  and  took  the 
prisoners  from  the  jail,  put  them  in  a  caboose  with  an  engine 
attached,  which  the  mob  had  provided  to  take  them  outside  of 
town  before  stringing  them  up,  and  signalled  to  the  engineer  to 
pull  out,  with  an  angry  mob  of  several  hundred  following. 

They  escaped  from  the  mob,  and  the  next  day  the  three  pris- 
oners were  placed  behind  the  bars  of  the  Arapahoe  county  jail 
at  Denver.  Gov.  Pitkin  promptly  paid  Mr.  Hyatt  the  |1,500 
reward,  and  gave  him  |50  out  of  his  own  pocket. 

When  the  excitement  had  partially  subsided  the  three  men 
were  taken  back  to  Conejos,  the  county  seat,  tried,  convicted, 
and  sentenced  to  the  jten  for  thirty-seven  years  each. 

Perkins  was  pardoned  out  after  having  served  eight  years, 
and  is  now  running  a  big  saloon  and  gambling  hall  at  Trinidad, 
and  is  supposed  to  be  worth  at  least  |25,000.  Allison  was  par- 
doned after  having  served  ten  years,  and  is  now  tending  bar  in 
a  Butte  City,  Mont.,  saloon  under  an  assumed  name.  Watts,  the 
third  member  of  the  gang,  was  pardoned  out  at  the  same  time 
Allison  was  let  out,  and  afterward  joined  a  band  of  train  robbers 
and  was  killed  in  Arizona  about  tv70  years  ago. 


A  COWBOY'S  SAD  PATE. 
CHAPTER  V. 

BOLD,  RECKLESS,  JOHNNY  VAN  PELT  ASSISTS  A  FRIEND  TO  ESCAPE 
FROM  JAIL  AT  BUENA  VISTA— RIDES  BOLDLY  INTO  ALAMOSA  IN 
DAYLIGHT  AND  IS  KILLED  BY  MARSHAL  HYATT  WHILE  RESISTING 
ARREST. 

Johnny  Van  Pelt,  a  cowboy,  who  used  to  make  his  head- 
quarters at  Alamosa,  was  as  reckless  a  lad  as  ever  punched 
cattle  in  southern  Colorado,  a  region  particularly  known  for 
its  tough  characters,  and  while  there  was  nothing  exceptionally 
bad  in  his  make-up,  his  recklessness  and  his  desire  to  help  a 
friend  out  of  trouble  cost  him  his  life,  and  very  nearly  resulted 
in  the  death  of  two  brave  officers. 

William  Morgan,  an  old  acquaintance  of  Van  Pelt's,  was 
in  jail  in  Buena  Vista,  charged  with  the  murder  of  his  father- 
in-law.  He  managed  to  get  word  to  Van  Pelt  in  some  way  that 
he  was  in  jail,  asking  him  to  assist  him  in  escaping.  Van  Pelt 
at  once  quit  work,  and  getting  a  couple  of  saddle  horses,  he 
helped  Morgan  to  break  jail,  and  the  precious  pair  rode  south- 
ward, intending  to  go  to  Old  Mexico.  They  traveled  on  down  the 
valley  until  they  reached  Hank  Dorris'  ranch,  fourteen  miles 
above  Alamosa.  Dorris  had  known  Van  Pelt,  and  their  idea  in 
stopping  there  was  to  borrow  some  money.  He  was  not  at  home, 
and  they  staid  around  two  or  three  days  waiting  for  his  return, 
sending  word  by  one  of  his  friends  that  they  were  there  waiting 
t;o  see  him.  Shortly  after  their  arrival  at  the  ranch.  Marshal 
Frank  Hyatt,  of  Alamosa,  received  a  telegram  from  Sheriff  J.  J. 
Salla,  of  Buena  Vista,  offering  |50  reward  for  the  capture  of 
Morgan  and  Van  Pelt.  He  kept  a  close  look-out  for  a  day  or  two, 
when  he  happened  to  run  across  his  old  friend,  Dorris,  of  whom 
he  made  inquiries  as  to  whether  any  one  answering  their  de- 
scription had  been  seen  up  the  valley.  Dorris  was  surprised  to 
learn  that  Van  Pelt  was  a  fugitive  from  justice,  and  telling 


44  ^  COWBOY'S  SAD  FATE. 

Marshal  Hyatt  that  he  had  just  received  word  from  his  ranch 
that  they  were  there  waiting  for  him,  volunteered  to  go  out  and 
help  the  officer  get  them.  Dorris  was  sitting  on  his  horse  and 
Marshal  Hyatt  was  just  going  after  his  own  animal  when  Van 
Pelt  rode  up  and  tied  his  horse  in  front  of  the  postoffice.  He 
spoke  pleasantly  to  the  two  officers,  and  when  he  had  tied  his 
horse,  stepped  up  and  shook  hands  with  the  marshal.  As  he  did 
so  the  marshal  said,  "Johnny,  I  guess  I  will  have  to  hold  you 
awhile."  Van  Pelt  jumped  back,  and  drawing  a  revolver  from 
each  overcoat  pocket  leveled  them  at  the  marshal's  breast. 

Although  the  desperado  had  the  drop  on  him,  the  brave 
officer  never  flinched.  He  dared  not  attempt  to  draw  a  gun,  so 
he  decided  to  talk  Van  Pelt  out  of  shooting.  Looking  him 
straight  in  the  eye,  he  said:  '^Don't  shoot,  Johnny;  you  haven't 
done  anything  to  shoot  me  for."  Van  Pelt,  his  eyes  still  glaring 
with  savage  hate,  evidently  decided  not  to  add  cold-blooded 
murder  to  his  crimes,  but  keeping  the  officer  covered,  commenced 
backing  away  to  where  his  horse  was  tied.  Just  then  Dorris, 
who  had  slipped  off  his  horse  while  the  parley  was  going  on, 
grabbed  Van  Pelt  from  behind.  The  desperado  jerked  loose  from 
Dorris,  and,  whirling  around,  fired  at  him,  the  ball  cutting 
through  his  coat  and  vest  and  cutting  a  cigar  in  his  vest  pocket  in 
two,  but  doing  no  serious  damage.  He  then  turned  and  fired  at 
Marshal  Hyatt,  who  had  torn  his  overcoat  open  and  gotten  his  own 
gun  by  this  time.  Then  began  a  three-cornered  battle — Van  Pelt 
retreating  toward  his  horse,  and  firing  as  he  went,  with  the  two 
officers  following  closely,  and  keeping  up  a  fusillade  of  bullets. 

When  Van  Pelt  reached  the  telegraph  pole  where  his  horse 
was  tied,  he  took  shelter  behind  it,  and  commenced  to  untie  his 
horse  with  his  left  hand,  while  he  kept  shooting  with  his  right. 
Just  as  he  got  his  horse  untied,  Hyatt  and  Dorris  both  fired, 
and  both  shots  took  effect,  one  entering  the  breast  and  the  other 
smashing  his  thigh.  He  dropped  his  remaining  gun,  let  go  his 
horse,  and  still  holding  to  the  pole,  sank  slowly  to  the  earth, 
saying  "I'm  killed."    In  twenty  minutes  he  was  dead. 

Leaving  the  coroner  to  take  charge  of  Van  Pelt,  Hyatt  and 
Dorris  hurriedly  mounted  their  horses  and  started  for  the  lat- 
ter's  ranch  to  secure  Morgan.    Arriving  at  the  ranch,  they  found 


A  COWBOY'S  SAD  FATE. 


47 


Morgan  busy  getting  supper,  having  unbuckled  his  belt  contain- 
ing his  revolvers  and  thrown  it  on  a  lounge.  At  Hyatt's  com- 
mand, he  put  up  his  hands  with  alacrity.  It  was  but  the  work 
of  a  few  minutes  to  tie  him  securely,  and  Marshal  Hyatt  was  soon 
on  his  way  back  to  Alamosa  with  the  fugitive. 

But  little  else  remains  to  be  told.  The  verdict  of  the  cor- 
oner's jury  was  that  the  officers  had  killed  Van  Pelt  while  in 
the  discharge  of  their  duty.  Thomas  O'Connor,  a  shoemaker, 
who  stuck  his  head  out  of  the  shop  door  when  the  shooting  be- 
gan, was  struck  in  the  cheek  by  a  glancing  bullet,  but  was  not 
seriously  injured.  Morgan,  the  man  who  caused  all  the  trouble, 
was  taken  up  to  Buena  Vista,  tried  for  the  murder  of  his  father- 
in-law,  convicted,  and  sentenced  to  the  penitentiary  for  eight 
years.  People  generally  thought  he  should  have  been  hung,  as 
he  was  the  cause  of  at  least  three  deaths.  After  her  husband's 
murder,  his  mother-in-law  died  of  grief,  and  Van  Pelt,  as  has 
been  related,  was  killed  while  trying  to  help  the  murderer  es- 
cape. 


DENVER'S  LAST  LEGAL  HANGING. 
CHAPTER  VI. 

TWO  DRUNKEN  NEGRO  HOLDUPS  MURDER  STREET  CAR  DRIVER  JOE 
WHITNAH— OFFICERS  ON  THE  WRONG  TRACK— THE  MURDERER 
TALKS  TOO  MUCH  AND  GEN.  COOK  HEARS  OF  IT— BOTH  MEN 
SOON  IN  THE  TOILS— GREEN  IS  HANGED  AND  WITHERS  GOES  TO 
THE    PEN    FOR   LIFE. 

The  murder  of  Street  Car  Driver  Joseph  C.  Whitnah  by  the 
two  negroes,  Green  and  Withers,  is  noted  not  only  for  the  cold- 
blooded nature  of  the  crime,  but  for  the  swift  retribution  which 
followed. 

Whitnah  was  shot  dead  by  Andy  Green,  a  negro  tough,  on 
the  night  of  May  19,  1886,  in  the  boot  of  his  car,  at  the  Gallup 
turn-table  at  Alameda  avenue,  on  Broadway  street,  in  Denver. 
Green  and  an  accomplice  named  John  Withers,  generally  known 
as  "Kansas"  by  his  associates,  were  bent  on  robbery.  Denver 
did  not  then  have  her  splendid  system  of  cable  and  electric 
cars,  but  the  old-fashioned  horse  cars  in  a  measure  filled  their 
place.  These  cars  carried  no  conductor,  the  passenger  simply 
depositing  his  fare  in  a  little  box  in  the  front  of  the  car  in 
sight  of  the  driver,  who  also  carried  a  box  containing  change 
for  the  accommodation  of  such  passengers  as  might  not  have 
the  requisite  nickel.  Sometimes  the  driver  would  have  as  much 
as  |20  or  |25  in  his  possession — scarcely  enough  to  tempt  the 
average  highwayman. 

About  10  o'clock  on  the  night  of  the  murder,  several  par- 
ties living  in  the  vicinity  of  the  turn-table  heard  a  shot,  then 
a  scream,  and  then  another  shot.  A  number  of  men  ran  to 
the  scene  of  the  shooting,  but  Whitnah,  the  driver,  was  dead 
when  they  reached  him.  One  or  two  of  them  had  seen  a  man 
running  from  the  scene  immediately  after  the  shooting,  but 
whether  he  was  white  or  black  they  could  not  tell. 

The  police  soon  arrived,  but  not  a  single  clue  to  the  per- 


ID 


a 
a 

t-, 

o 

a 


Q 

O 
-u 

<D 
4) 
;-! 
-t-> 
(73 

O 

bo 
a 


W 


DENVER'S  LAST  LEGAL  HANGING.  51 

petrators  of  the  dastardly  crime  could  be  obtained.  What  made 
the  case  all  the  more  difficult  was  the  total  absence  of  any  ap- 
parent motive  for  the  crime.  The  money  box  had  not  been 
touched,  and  the  young  man,  who  was  poj^ular  and  well  liked 
by  every  one,  was  not  knoAvn  to  have  an  enemy  in  the  world. 
Another  thing  which  greatly  complicated  the  case,  was  the 
number  of  robberies  and  holdups  that  occurred  the  same  night, 
and  the  officers  vainlv  tried  to  connect  this  crime  with  some 
of  the  others. 

Since  there  was  apparently  no  attempt  at  robbery,  many 
people  believed  that  there  was  a  woman  in  the  case,  and 
Sheriff  Cramer  and  his  deputies  went  so  far  as  to  assert  they 
had  positive  evidence  that  the  crime  had  been  committed  by 
one  of  the  men  who  was  first  on  the  scene,  a  blacksmith  by 
the  name  of  F.  O.  Peterson.  He  was  held  by  the  coroner's  jury 
for  several  days — long  enough  for  the  actual  murderers  to  have 
escaped  had  they  chosen  to  do  so — but  was  finally  discharged, 
there  being  not  a  particle  of  evidence  against  him. 

Gen.  Cook  had  taken  a  great  deal  of  interest  in  the  case 
from  the  start.  Whitnah  had  formerly  been  employed  by  him 
on  his  ranch  near  Denver,  and  as  he  was  an  honest,  industrious 
and  inoffensive  young  man.  Gen.  Cook  was  very  anxious  to 
have  his  murderer  caught  and  fjunished.     Although  not   con- 

« 

nected  with  either  the  sheriff's  officp  or  the  police  department 
at  the  time.  Gen.  Cook  had  gone  quietly  to  work  making  in- 
quiries on  his  own  account,  having  confidence  in  the  old  adage, 
"Murder  will  out."  He  soon  learned  that  a  negro  named  Larry 
Foutz  who  hung  out  at  a  very  disreputable  Larimer  street 
saloon,  had  been  dropping  a  hint  or  two  to  his  associates  that 
he  could  tell  a  whole  lot  about  the  mysterious  murder  if  he 
chose,  and  at  once  had  him  brought  to  the  office  of  the  Rocky 
Mountain  Detective  Association.  Foutz  did  not  deny  having 
knowledge  of  the  crime,  but  wanted  to  be  assured  by  Gov. 
Eaton  personally  that  he  would  receive  the  |500  reward  which 
had  been  offered  for  the  arrest  of  the  murderer  in  case  he 
gave  information  that  would  lead  to  the  arrest  of  the  guilty 
parties.  Gen.  Cook  at  once  took  him  to  the  governor,  who  gave 
him  the  assurance  asked  for,  and  Foutz  immediately  put  Gen. 


52  DENVER'S  LAST  LEGAL  HANGING. 

Cook  into  possession  of  the  principal  facts  in  the  case,  and 
(inabled  him  to  arrest  the  murderers  within  a  very  few  minutes. 

Foutz's  story  was  to  the  effect  that  he  had  talked  to 
Green  that  evening  at  the  saloon,  and  that  Green  had  proposed 
that  Foutz  and  '^Kansas"  Withers  should  go  out  with  him  and 
rob  a  street  car  driver.  Foutz  seemed  to  consider  the  proposi- 
tion very  favorably,  but  got  very  drunk  before  they  got  ready 
to  start  and  was  left  behind.  He  talked  to  Green  the  day  after 
the  killing,  and  Green  told  him  that  the  reason  they  killed 
Whitnah  was  that  he  did  not  throw  up  his  hands  when  com- 
manded, as  he  was  turning  his  car.  Green  fired  a  shot  to  scare 
him,  and  he  gave  a  couple  of  loud  screams.  Green  then  stepped 
closer  and  shot  him  through  the  body,  and  he  immediately  fell 
back  dead.  Withers  was  to  have  secured  the  money  box,  but 
when  the  shooting  occurred  he  ran  like  a  deer.  Green  heard 
a  man  coming  and  he  followed  Withers. 

Gen.  Cook  lost  no  time  in  arresting  the  two  men.  He  went 
to  Chief  of  Police  Hogle  and  found  that  Green,  who  had  been 
arrested  and  fined  for  carrying  concealed  weapons  a  few  days 
before,  was  still  on  the  chain  gang  in  North  Denver.  The 
patrol  wagon  was  secured,  and  in  less  than  an  hour  Green  was 
in  jail.  Withers  was  carrying  a  hod  on  a  new  building  going 
up  on  Arapahoe  street.  He  was  at  once  taken  into  custody, 
and  confessed  his  share  in, the  crime  before  the  jail  was  reached. 
His  confession  did  not  differ  materially  from  the  story  al- 
ready related  by  Foutz,  except  that  he  insisted  that  he  was 
not  a  party  to  the  killing,  having  told  Green  that  he  would  not 
go  along  if  there  was  to  be  any  shooting. 

Green  was  much  more  reticent  and  could  not  be  induced  to 
talk  for  a  long  time.  Being  told  that  Withers  had  already  con- 
fessed he  at  length  decided  to  tell  his  side  of  the  case.  He 
had  nothing  new  to  tell  as  the  detectives  already  knew  he  was 
the  man  who  had  committed  the  cruel  murder.  He  denied  that 
he  had  gone  out  there  with  any  intention  of  killing  the  driver, 
but  simply  fired  the  first  shot  to  scare  him,  and  as  the  ball 
was  afterward  found  lodged  in  the  top  of  the  car,  his  storj' 
was  undoubtedly  true.  He  said  that  Whitnah's  screams  scared 
him,  and  he  made  another  step  or  two  towards  him  and  then 


CD 

CO 
oo 


3 

o 
o 


T3 

Si 
ID 


a 

<D 

o 

p 
a 


be 
a 

be 
a 


DENVER'S  LAST  LEGAL  HANGING.  55 

fired  to  kill  him,  as  he  said,  "To  stop  his  d d  racket."     He 

then  ran  after  Withers.  They  then  went  to  their  homes  and 
went  to  bed,  and  had  it  not  been  for  Foutz's  talk  might  never 
have  been  suspicioned  of  the  crime. 

A  mob  of  several  hundred  men  and  bojs  was  formed  the 
night  after  their  capture,  to  break  into  the  jail  and  hang  the 
two  negroes,  but  lacking  leadership  it  was  soon  dispersed  by 
the  police. 

Public  excitement  and  the  danger  of  lynching  induced  the 
calling  of  a  special  grand  jury,  the  indictment  of  Green  and 
Withers  and  a  speedy  trial.  They  were  tried  separately.  On 
the  22d  of  June  the  trial  of  Green  opened.  Two  days  were 
spent  empaneling  a  jury,  and  on  June  25  he  was  convicted  of 
murder  in  the  first  degree,  and  sentenced  to  be  hanged  on  July 
27.  Withers  was  allowed  to  plead  guilty  to  murder  in  the  sec- 
ond degree,  and  was  sentenced  to  the  state  penitentiary  at 
Canon  City  for  life,  where  he  is  now  serving  his  time,  having 
made  two  or  three  ineffectual  attempts  to  secure  a  pardon. 

The  efforts  of  Green's  attorneys  to  secure  a  new  trial  were 
unsuccessful,  and  he  was  executed  on  the  day  set  by  Judge 
Elliott,  July  27.  The  scaffold,  which  was  a  very  simple  affair 
of  the  "twitch  up"  variety,  was  erected  in  the  bend  of  Cherry 
creek,  directly  east  of  the  Smith  chapel,  West  Denver,  and 
about  midway  between  Broadway  and  Colfax  Avenue  bridges. 
The  execution  was  public  and  free  to  everybody,  and  the  crowd 
was  estimated  at  15,000.  Green  stepped  upon  the  low  scaffold 
in  an  easy,  careless  manner,  fully  conscious  of  the  fact  that 
he  was  entertaining  the  crowd  of  his  life,  and  deriving  no  small 
amount  of  satisfaction  therefrom.  He  was  permitted  by  Sheriff 
Cramer  to  deliver  a  long  rambling  speech,  in  the  course  of 
which  he  advised  everybody  to  beware  of  drink  and  gambling 
halls,  which  he  said  had  led  to  his  ruin.  At  the  conclusion  of 
his  speech  the  black  cap  was  adjusted,  and  at  2:20  Sheriff 
Cramer  cut  the  rope.  Green's  body  rose  slowly  into  the  air 
and  his  limbs  twitched  convulsively  for  several  minutes.  At 
the  end  of  twenty-five  minutes  he  was  pronounced  dead,  and 
his  body  was  taken  down  and  delivered  to  the  undertakers.  The 
autopsy  disclosed  the  fact  that  his  neck  was  not  broken. 


56 


DENVER'S  LAST  LEGAL  HANGING. 


Thus  ended  the  career  of  as  depraved  a  wretch  as  ever  ex- 
isted. According  to  the  story  of  his  life,  written  by  him  for  a 
local  paper,  his  thieving  prox>ensities  were  early  developed,  as 
was  his  disregard  for  human  life.  At  the  age  of  fourteen  he 
had  shot  his  father  while  the  latter  was  chastising  him  for  a 
theft,  inflicting  a  severe  wound.  After  that  he  had  served  sen- 
tences in  innumerable  jails  and  workhouses  for  various  crimes, 
principally  stealing.  He  had  also  served  a  five-year  term  in 
the  Missouri  penitentiary  for  a  burglary  committed  at  Lexing- 
ton, a  little  town  near  which  he  was  born.  The  trial  and  exe- 
cution of  Green  scared  hundreds  of  petty  crooks  away  from 
Denver,  and  for  a  long  time  afterward  the  city  was  almost 
entirely  free  from  holdups  and  burglaries. 


THE  ITALIAN  MURDERS. 
CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  ITALIAN  MURDERS-THE  GREAT  DENVER  SENSATION  OF  1875- 
FOUR  DECAYING  BODIES  FOUND  AT  2334  LAWRENCE  STREET— A 
HORRIBLE  SIGHT— SUSPICION  POINTS  TO  A  BAND  OF  FELLOW- 
COUNTRYMEN— GEN.   COOK   TAKES   THE   CASE    IN    HAND. 

One  of  the  most  horrible  crimes  that  ever  cast  a  silhouette 
athwart  the  darkened  pages  of  criminal  history  was  revealed 
to  the  startled  citizens  of  Denver  on  the  21st  day  of  October, 
1875,  consisting  in  the  discovery  of  what  afterwards  became 
known  throughout  the  state  as  the  Italian  murders.  The  revela- 
tion of  the  crime,  the  obscurity  of  the  victims,  the  length  of 
time  elapsing  between  the  perpetration  and  the  discovery,  the 
mystery  enveloping  the  deed  with  an  apparently  impregnable 
mantle,  and  the  swift  following  detection  and  apprehension  of 
the  perpetrators,  all  combine  to  form  the  basis  for  one  of  the 
most  interesting  narratives  ever  found  in  criminal  or  detective 
literature. 

For  several  days  prior  to  the  finding  of  the  bodies  of  the 
victims,  those  residing  in  the  vicinity  of  No.  2334  Lawrence 
street  had  detected  the  presence  of  a  stench,  faint  at  first,  but 
daily  increasing,  leading  to  a  suspicion  that  the  body  of  some 
animal  had  been  permitted  to  remain  there  long  after  life  was 
extinct.  The  smell  from  this  supposed  carcass  becoming  more 
obnoxious,  the  investigation  which  eventually  revealed  the 
crime,  that  all  were  surprised  to  find  had  been  committed,  was 
instituted. 

Accompanied  by  an  oflRcer,  persons  residing  in  the  neigh- 
borhood began  a  search,  and  their  attention  was  directed  to'an 
unoccupied  frame  building,  where  countless  flies  swarmed 
around  the  windows,  causing  a  suspicion  that  within  the  portals 
of  the  house  reposed  the  object  sought. 

The  building  contained  three  rooms,  the  front  and  larger 


58  THE  ITALIAN  MURDERS. 

one  communicating  with  those  in  the  rear  by  a  hall,  while  a 
rude,  unfinished  cellar  had  been  excavated  below.  The  door 
was  unlocked,  and  pushing  it  open,  the  room  was  gained,  when 
it  became  apparent  that  crime  and  not  carelessness  would  be 
revealed. 

Evidences  of  a  sanguinary  encounter  were  but  too  plainly 
visible.  There  was  blood  on  the  floor,  and  a  dozen  pools  were 
yet  bright  and  crimson.  On  the  walls  were  great  splotches  of 
blood,  and  in  the  hall  leading  to  the  kitchen  the  tell-tale  im- 
prints of  bloody  hands  seemed  to  point  with  grim  and  ghastly 
fingers  the  way  to  the  crime. 

The  house  was  destitute  of  furniture,  but  in  the  middle 
apartment  stood  a  scissor-grinding  machine,  over  which  had 
been  thrown  a  torn  and  soiled  blanket,  revealing  the  occupation 
of  some  of  the  late  inmates.  Following  along  the  hall,  where 
a  crimson  trail  proved  that  some  heavy  and  bleeding  object 
had  been  dragged,  the  kitchen  was  reached.  This  room  was 
very  dirty,  and  contained  a  broken  stove,  a  wash  boiler,  a  box, 
a  dilapidated  valise  and  some  fragments  of  food.  Here  a  trap- 
door was  found,  and  when  it  was  opened  a  rush  of  efduvia 
nearly  overpowered  those  present.  A  rickety  stair  led  to  the 
dark  hole  beneath.  A  candle  was  procured,  and  its  fitful  flame 
exposed  a  sight  that  passes  all  description. 

Under  the  stairs,  in  a  dark,  filthy  corner,  lay  four  decaying 
human  bodies,  piled  two  on  two,  with  all  four  heads  touching 
the  wall.  Over  them  had  been  thrown  some  dirty  mattresses 
and  blankets,  and  on  these  a  miscellaneous  assortment  of  traps 
piled  on  as  weights.  At  the  feet  of  the  bodies  lay  three  large 
harps,  two  violins,  a  scissor-grinding  machine,  a  hatchet,  a 
hammer  and  several  dirks.  The  edge  of  the  hatchet  was  be- 
smeared with  blood,  while  to  the  handle  still  clung  a  tuft  of  hair, 
showing  that  the  tool  had  been  used  in  the  bloody  murder.  The 
dirks  were  blood-covered  from  point  to  hilt.  On  the  harp- 
strings  and  on  the  violins  and  also  on  the  stairs,  the  life-tide 
of  the  victims  had  left  its  gory  stain,  while  the  mattresses  and 
blankets  were  saturated  with  it. 

The  clothing,  down  to  the  bloody  shirts,  had  been  stripped 
from  the  bodies  of  the  victims,  while  those  of  the  others  were 


THE  ITALIAN  MURDERS.  61 

slit  and  rent  where  the   cruel  knives  had  torn  their  way  to 
the  vitals. 

But  greater  horrors  and  more  ghastly  sights  than  these 
were  there.  The  four  throats  had  been  cut  from  ear  to  ear,  and 
the  sickening  wounds  gaped  wide,  like  the  mouth  of  some  huge 
fish.  The  abdomens,  the  arms  and  the  hands  of  the  bodies  had 
been  cut  and  mangled,  while  the  blackened  faces  scarcely  any 
trace  of  humanity  wore. 

The  coroner  was  soon  on  the  scene,  and  while  the  under- 
taker was  transferring  the  bodies  to  coffins,  a  crowd  of  morbid 
sightseers  assembled.  The  news  of  the  discovery  spread  with . 
marvelous  rapidity,  and  the  throng  grew  larger  and  larger,  until 
the  streets,  the  neighboring  yards  and  even  the  adjacent  house- 
tops were  packed  with  people.  Men,  women  and  children  fairly 
trampled  each  other  in  their  wild  desire  to  view  the  bodies, 
and  the  officers  were  powerless  to  preserve  anything  approach- 
ing decorum. 

The  wildest  and  most  exaggerated  stories  were  circulated. 
It  was  evident  to  all  that  a  quadruple  murder  had  been  com- 
mitted, but  no  one  knew  the  authors  of  the  crime  or  its  in- 
spiration; for  while  it  was  known  that  a  party  of  Italians  had 
occupied  the  house,  no  one  could  be  found  who  had  seen  any 
one  enter  or  emerge  since  the  preceding  Sunday.  One  body 
was  identified  by  a  colored  shoemaker,  who  had  repaired  the 
shoes  still  on  its  feet,  but  aside  from  the  fact  that  one  of  the 
victims  was  an  old  Italian  called  "Uncle  Joe,"  and  that  the 
others  were  three  boys,  two  of  whom  had  passed  as  his  sons, 
and  the  other  as  his  nephew,  little  could  be  gleaned  from  the 
excited  crowd. 

The  four  bodies  were  taken  away  in  an  express  wagon  and 
buried  in  the  Potter's  field.  Still  the  object  of  the  crime  and 
by  whom  committed  were  things  wrapped  in  mystery  so  pro- 
found that  it  seemed  as  though  the  final  day  alone  would  re- 
veal the  awful  secret. 

But  all  are  not  gifted  with  that  insight  into  the  ways 
of  crime  that  comes  only  from  long  experience  in  hunting  it 
out,  and  is  often  so  marvelous  that  it  takes  the  aspect  of  in- 
stinct.    Gen.  D.  J.  Cook,  chief  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  Associa- 


62 


THE  ITALIAN  MURDERS. 


tion,  and  then  sheriff  of  Arapahoe  county,  without  waiting  for 
any  offer  of  reward,  took  the  case  in  hand  even  before  the  cor- 
oner's jury  had  completed  its  task.  With  a  shrewdness  almost 
without  parallel  he  had  comprehended  a  theory  of  the  murders, 
and  had  his  vigilant  detectives  on  the  track  of  the  murderers. 

The  inquest  developed  but  few  facts,  and  these  strength- 
ened the  theory  the  keen  chief  had  entertained.  Persons  were 
found  who  identified  the  remains  as  those  of  Guiseppe  Peccora, 
his  two  sons,  Giovanni  and  Guiseppe,  and  a  nephew  called 
Luigi,  and  the  fact  was  also  elicited  that  Filomeno  Gallotti, 
Michiele  Ballotti  and  one  or  more  unknown  confederates  had 
been  their  former  associates. 

Little  was  known  of  the  class  to  which  the  victims  belonged, 
for  by  occupation  they  were  itinerant  musicians  and  scissor- 
grinders,  and  were  constantly  wandering  from  place  to  place. 
No.  2334  Lawrence  street  had  been  a  lounging  place  for  some 
eight  or  ten  of  this  class. 

Putting  this  and  that  together,  Gen.  Cook  formed  the 
theory  that  the  old  man  and  three  boys  had  been  murdered  by 
the  visitors  for  their  money,  although  many  entertained  the 
idea  that  a  free  fight  had  culminated  in  the  death  of  the  weaker 
ones,  and  that  the  visitors  had  hastily  concealed  the  bodies 
and  fled.  Suspicion  pointed  to  a  gang  of  Italians  headed  by 
Gallotti,  who  had  occupied  a  shanty  on  lower  Fifteenth  street, 
and  Cook  soon  ascertained  that  some  nine  or  ten  made  that 
a  stopping  place,  as  shown  by  the  registry  lists  of  the  ward  in 
which  the  building  stood.  The  boss  of  the  gang  was  this 
Filomeno  Gallotti,  a  man  possessing  some  means,  and  the  owner 
of  a  tin  shop  at  that  place.  Antonio  Dertiro,  a  good  looking, 
fair  haired  boy,  claimed  to  be  his  apprentice  at  the  munificent 
salary  of  |150  a  year,  and  the  wily  detective  learned  that  on 
the  Thursday  or  Friday  preceding  the  discovery  of  the  bodies 
this  youth  had  disappeared.  The  following  day  Gallotti  also 
took  his  departure.  It  was  learned  that  he  claimed  that  the 
boy  had  stolen  some  money,  and  that  he  professed  to  be  fol- 
lowing him^ — all  of  which  Gen.  Cook  pronounced  "too  thin." 
The  tools,  traps  and    miscellaneous    plunder    had    disappeared 


THE  ITALIAN  MURDERS.  63 

from  the    shop,   and   none   of  the   gang   had   been    seen   after 
Saturday  night. 

While  the  coroner's  jury  was  pursuing  its  investigations, 
Cook  and  his  men  were  at  work  on  their  own  clues.  They  had 
already  become  thoroughly  convinced  that  Gallotti  and  his 
satellites  were  responsible  for  the  murder,  and  determined  to 
waste  no  time  in  waiting  upon  the  verdict  of  the  inquisition. 
They  set  to  work  to  discover  the  extent  of  the  conspiracy,  which 
to  their  minds  had  resulted  in  the  wholesale  murder;  to  de- 
termine upon  the  participants  in  the  first  place,  and  in  the  next 
to  obtain  clues  by  which  they  might  be  hunted  down.  They  had 
disappeared;  that  was  a  point  beyond  peradventure.  But 
whither  had  they  gone?  This  was  more  important  to  those 
who  were  anxious  that  justice  should  be  meted  out  to  the 
wretches  responsible  for  the  crime,  the  horrible  evidences  of 
which  confronted  the  community.  It  had  become  quite  evident 
that  Gallotti  had  been  engaged  in  the  murder,  and  Gen.  Cook 
was  also  convinced  that  he  had  had  accomplices,  but  who  they 
were  and  what  marks  of  identification  they  bore  were  among 
the  facts  which  were  not  known,  but  which  detective  skill  was 
expected  to  bring  to  light.  There  was  evidently  much  work 
to  be  done.  All  were  crying  for  the  apprehension  of  the  crim- 
inals— the  state,  the  county,  the  city,  the  people.  But  no  one 
offered  a  reward.  Calling  his  associates  together,  Gen.  Cook 
spoke  briefly  to  the  point,  without  any  flourish  of  rhetoric  or 
waste  of  words.  ''Boys,"  he  said,  "you  know  there  has  been  a 
great  crime  committed  here.  The  murderers  are  hardly  known; 
of  their  whereabouts  we  are  utterly  ignorant.  They  must  be 
brought  to  justice,  and  that  is  our  work.  There  is  no  reward 
offered,  but  at  this  time  we  will  not  wait  to  ask  for  pay.  Hunt 
the  scoundrels  down  at  any  cost,  and  I  will  see  that  your  bills 
are  met.  Do  your  duty."  After  a  brief  comparison  of  notes 
the  men  were  off,  this  one  going  here  and  that  one  there,  as 
Gen.  Cook  might  direct. 

It  was  not  long  until  the  discovery  was  made  that  Gallotti 
had  been  assisted  in  his  work  of  murder  by  several  others — • 
perhaps  half  a  dozen.  A  clue  found  here  and  another  there 
gradually  disclosed  to  the  detectives  the  work  before  them.     In 


Q^  THE  ITALIAN  MURDERS. 

prosecuting  their  investigations  they  learned  something  of  the 
character  of  Gallotti  himself.  His  history  had  been  one  of 
thrilling  and  romantic  interest — fitting  him  especially  for  the 
role  he  had  assumed  as  leader  of  the  murderous  band  of  this 
city.  Back  in  Italy  he  had  been  a  member  of  a  band  of  outlaws, 
which  for  a  score  of  years  had  been  the  terror  of  travelers  and 
residents  of  the  district  in  which  it  operated.  Stolen  from  his 
home  as  a  boy  by  these  banditti,  Gallotti  grew  up  with  them, 
soon  became  one  of  them,  and  gradually  advanced  in  his  ac- 
complishments until  he  became  one  of  the  most  renowned  of  the 
gang.  He  was  cold-blooded,  cunning,  self-possessed  and  dar- 
ing when  necessary.  To  him  no  man's  life  was  sacred.  Murder 
was  regarded  only  as  a  part  of  the  work  necessary  to  secure 
booty.  Gallotti  never  shirked  his  "duty"  when  assassination 
was  a  part  of  it.  Ultimately  he  was  elected  chief  of  the  band 
of  which  he  had  long  been  virtually  leader,  but  soon  afterwards 
was  compelled  to  flee  the  country-.  He  came  to  America  and 
ultimately  landed  in  Denver,  where  he  became  acquainted  with 
Michiele  Ballotti  and  others  of  his  nationality,  including  "Old 
Joe"  and  his  boys.  It  was  further  learned  that  the  children 
who  called  Pecorra  "father"  and  "uncle"  were  not  united  to 
him  by  any  tie  of  kindred,  but  that  he  was  merely  an  old  padrone 
who  had  stolen  the  boys  and  was  compelling  them  to  work  and 
earn  money  for  him.  He  worked  himself  as  a  scissor  grinder 
and  sent  the  boys  out  as  musicians,  and  compelled  them  at 
times  to  beg  for  money.  When  they  came  home  at  the  end  of 
the  day,  with  scant  earnings,  he  beat  and  abused  them;  so  that 
they  worked  hard  and  brought  many  a  coin  to  the  old  man. 
Pecorra  was  supposed  by  Gallotti  to  be  rich,  and  adding  this 
point  to  the  knowledge  which  he  possessed  of  the  outlaw's 
character,  Gen.  Cook  had  no  difficulty  in  fixing  upon  him  as 
the  leader  of  the  murderous  gang. 

Another  point  of  more  immediate  interest  was  soon  brought 
to  light.  In  looking  about,  Gen.  Cook  learned  of  numerous  pur- 
chases that  had  been  made  by  Italians.  Many  such  articles  as 
agricultural  implehients  and  guns  had  been  purchased  by  the 
men  whom  he  had  come  to  suspect  as  the  murderers.  He  was 
thus  led  to  infer  that  it  was  the  intention  of  the  murderers  to 


THE  ITALIAN  MURDERS.  f^5 

go  into  farming  somewhere.  He  concluded  that  they  would  not 
risk  their  lives  by  remaining  near  Denver.  If  they  had  been 
going  East  they  would  not  have  bought  these  articles  in  Denver. 
He  took  the  precaution  to  telegraph  to  all  the  important  Eu- 
ropean seaports  to  have  the  men  apprehended  in  case  they 
should  land,  spending  no  small  amount  of  money  for  cablegrams. 
But  he  was  really  convinced  from  the  first  that  the  men  whom 
he  sought  had  not  gone  across  the  plains,  and  that  they  did  not 
intend  to  cross  them.  Putting  this  and  that  together  he  reached 
the  conclusion  in  an  instant  that  the  men  would  make  an  ef- 
fort to  escape  by  going  south  to  Mexico.  He  also  learned  that 
three  men,  who  were  described  as  Italians  or  Mexicans,  had 
boarded  a  south-bound  train  at  Littleton  a  few  days  previous. 
He  concluded  that  these  were  the  men,  or  some  of  the  men, 
that  he  wanted.  Selecting  the  late  W.  Frank  Smith  and  R.  Y. 
Force,  as  two  of  the  most  eflQcient  of  his  officers,  he  started 
them  south  in  pursuit  of  the  culprits. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

PURSUIT  OF  THE  ITALIAN  MURDERERS  BY  THE  DETECTIVE  ASSOCIA- 
TION—SMITH AND  FORCE  ON  THE  TRAIL— THEY  BEGOME  DIS- 
COURAGED AT  PUEBLO,  BUT  ARE  URGED  ON  BY  CHIEF  COOK- 
PART  OF  THE  GAME  AT  LAST  FOUND  AT  TRINIDAD  AND  THREE 
OF  THE  MURDERERS  ARRESTED— THEY  CONFESS  THE  ENTIRE 
CRIME  AND,  RETURNING  TO  DENVER,  NARROWLY  ESCAPE 
LYNCHING— ARREST  OF  DEODOTTA  AND  "OLD  JOE"  AT  SLOAN'S 
LAKE,   NEAR   DENVER,   UNDER  EXCITING   CIRCUMSTANCES. 

Meantime  the  coroner's  jury  continued  its  work.  A  verdict 
was  rendered  in  accordance  with  the  facts  gleaned  concerning 
the  murders  as  related  in  the  previous  chapter,  but  beyond 
these  nothing  was  known.  The  suspected  men  had  disappeared, 
and  it  was  shown  that  the  crime  had  been  committed  nearly  a 
week  before  it  was  discovered.  Public  indignation  ran  high, 
and  it  was  feared  that,  should  the  murderers  be  captured,  the 
enraged  people  would  not  brook  the  necessary  delay  incident 
to  the  legal  trial  of  the  fiends.  This  feeling  culminated  in  the 
firing  of  the  house  on  Lawrence  street  a  few  nights  after  the 
discovery  of  the  crime.  The  firemen  confined  their  attention 
to  the  preservation  of  the  adjoining  buildings,  and  by  one  ac- 
cord public  sentiment  allowed  the  building  to  be  entirely  con- 
sumed. 

The  details  of  the  pursuit  and  capture  of  the  criminals,  with 
the  trials  and  adventures  of  the  detectives,  form  a  most  in- 
teresting and  thrilling  narrative,  and  give  an  insight  into  the 
ways  adopted  by  those  keen  men  who  render  crime  doubly 
dangerous  by  making  the  punishment  of  the  offenders  approx- 
imately inevitable. 

The  manner  in  which  the  perilous  and  responsible  duty  of 
tracking  the  murderers  was  performed  proves  the  chief's  sagacity 
in  selecting  Smith  and  Force  for  the  work.  For  twenty-one 
days  and  nights  they  tracked  the  villians.  Scarcely  sleeping, 
alike  regardless  of  hot  suns,  cold  rains  or  chilling  snows,  through 


THE  ITALIAN  MURDERS. 


67 


canons,  over  plains,  wandering  through  the  slums  and  bv-wajs, 
these  men  of  iron  nerve  and  tireless  constitution  pursued  their 
object  until  they  met  with  the  reward  due  their  skill  and  per- 
severance. 

Pursuant  to  the  instructions  of  Chief  Cook  the  detectives 
started  south  on  Saturday  morning  after  the  discovery  of  the 
crime.  At  Pueblo  they  separated,  Force  remaining  there,  while 
Smith  proceeded  to  Canon  City.  The  air  was  full  of  rumors, 
many  wild  and  without  foundation,  while  others  possessed  the 
element  of  plausibility.  It  was  no  easy  task  to  arrive  at  any- 
thing like  a  correct  opinion  by  giving  credence  to  any  rumor, 
but  after  infinite  difficulty  a  trail  was  discovered  at  Pueblo 
leading  toward  Trinidad.  This  Mr.  Smith  was  averse  to  taking, 
and  so  telegraphed  Gen.  Cook,  but  the  latter  replied:  *'Go 
ahead;  the  money  is  mine."  Smith  and  Force  at  once  joined 
at  Pueblo  and  hastened  to  Trinidad.  Arriving  there  they  went 
to  a  saloon  frequented  by  Italians,  and  there  found  some  of  the 
very  men  for  whom  they  were  searching,  namely,  Michiele 
Ballotti,  Silvestro  Campagne  and  Leonardo  Allesandri,  against 
whom  there  were  strong  suspicions,  who  were  making  music  for 
the  saloon  loafers  with  all  their  might.  After  looking  on  for 
a  moment  to  make  sure  of  their  game,  the  officers  approached 
the  startled  musicians  with  drawn  guns  and  demanded  a  sur- 
render, which  was  sullenly  acceded  to.  Detective  Smith  at  once 
asked  Ballotti  when  he  came  to  Trinidad.  Ballotti  answered 
quite  coolly  to  the  effect  that  he  had  been  there  about  two 
weeks,  but  Silvestro  trembled  visibly,  and  seemed  to  realize 
that  they  were  about  to  get  into  trouble.  Being  confident  that 
these  were  the  men  they  sought,  the  detectives  took  them  in 
charge  and  placed  them  in  jail. 

Up  to  the  present  time  it  will  be  borne  in  mind  that  there 
had  as  yet  been  no  definite  clue  obtained  as  to  the  identity  of 
the  murderers.  It  is  true  that  strong  suspicion  had  been 
aroused,  but,  after  all,  suspicion  is  no  proof.  It  remained  for 
these  three  men  to  "give  the  whole  thing  dead  away."  When 
they  were  taken  to  jail  and  searched  some  of  the  money  taken 
from  old  Pecorra's  house  was  found  upon  the  persons  of  the 
men,  and  when  they  were  stripped  the  most  convincing  proofs 


68  THE  ITALIAN  MURDERS. 

of  their  guilt  stared  the  officers  in  the  face.  The  undershirts 
which  they  wore  were  still  saturated  with  blood— blood  which 
they  confessed  had  flown  from  the  veins  of  their  victims,  the 
padrone  and  his  little  boy  slaves. 

The  fact  of  the  crime  being  once  acknowledged,  the  men 
were  very  free  to  talk,  and  they  not  only  confessed  their  own 
crime,  but  revealed  the  names  of  others  engaged  with  them, 
and  poured  into  the  ears  of  the  detectives  the  bloody  story  of 
the  murder  which  they  had  committed  a  few  days  before  in 
Denver.  The  same  stories  were  afterwards  repeated  in  Denver, 
and  will  be  told  in  their  proper  place.  The  names  of  the  mur- 
derous band,  including  their  own,  as  revealed  by  this  delectable 
trio,  were:  Filomeno  Gallotti,  Henry  Fernandez,  John  Anatta, 
Frank  Valentine,  Michiele  Ballotti,  Silvestro  Campagne,  Leon- 
ardo Allesandri,  Guiseppe  Pinachio  and  Leonardo  Deodotta,  all 
of  them  being  Italians  except  Fernandez,  who  was  a  Mexican. 

They  also  told  a  story  which  confirmed  Cook's  theory  that 
the  band  intended  to  ilee  to  Mexico,  and  informed  the  officers 
where  proof  could  be  obtained  of  the  facts  in  the  case.  They 
stated  that  not  only  agricultural  implements  had  been  secured, 
but  guns  and  ammunition  as  well.  The  party  had  intended  to 
select  as  a  hiding  place  some  quite,  secluded  valley,  where  they 
could  make  their  headquarters,  and  whence  they,  as  a  band  of 
brigands  of  the  old  Italian  model,  could  make  their  forays  upon 
the  traveling  and  civilized  world.  They  stated  further  that 
Gallotti  and  some  of  his  men  had  fled  from  Denver,  but  that 
they  had  left  confederates  in  the  persons  of  Deodotta  and  old 
Joe  Pinachio,  living  quietly  near  Sloan's  lake,  who,  they  said, 
knew  of  the  whereabouts  not  only  of  the  implements  and 
munitions  to  be  sent  to  Gallotti  in  Mexico,  but  also  of  the  place 
at  which  was  hidden  away  the  bulk  of  the  money  taken  from 
old  Pecorra's  house  after  the  murder,  as  well.  These  facts  were, 
of  course,  promptly  telegraphed  to  Gen.  Cook,  who  acted  upon 
them,  as  shall  be  detailed  in  the  proper  place. 

Within  two  hours  the  prisoners  were  securely  ironed,  and 
the  next  morning  they  commenced  the  journey  that  would  ter- 
minate  in   the   city   where   they    had    committed   the    terrible 


THE  ITALIAN  MURDERS.  g9 

crimes,  and  where  the  news  of  their  capture  was,  even  then, 
creating  wild  excitement. 

By  5  o'clock  on  the  afternoon  of  their  arrival  a  crowd  be- 
gan to  gather  at  the  depot.  The  afternoon  was  dark  and  lower- 
ing, and  a  fitful  fall  of  snow  chilled  the  air.  But  the  impatient 
crowds  surged  and  stamped  around  in  a  vain  effort  to  keep 
warm,  determined  to  suffer  rather  than  to  let  the  prisoners  ar- 
rive without  their  knowledge.  Day  was  fading  to  chill  and 
cheerless  night  when  the  train  drew  up  at  the  platform.  A 
wild  rush  ensued,  but  the  police  kept  a  passageway  open,  and 
the  prisoners  were  soon  landed  in  an  omnibus  that  had  been 
secured  for  the  purpose,  officers  mounted  the  top  and  with  Gen. 
Cook  and  his  assistant  detectives  inside  and  an  officer  on  the 
step,  the  omnibus  started  for  the  jail.  Scarcely  had  the  wheels 
revolved,  ere  the  crowd  by  one  great  common  impulse  made  a 
rush  for  the  vehicle  with  cries  of  ''a  rope!"  "a  rope!"  ''hang 
them!"  which  were  caught  up  and  repeated  until  the  vast  array 
seemed  turned  into  a  mighty  mob  bent  on  avenging  the  death 
of  the  old  man  and  the  boys,  determined  on  a  sudden  and  swift 
execution  of  the  human  birds  of  prey,  and  it  seemed  as  though 
the  officers  would  be  powerless  to  protect  the  ironed  ingrates 
who  trembled  as  they  beheld  the  wrath  of  the  populace.  Chief 
Cook  was  there,  and  his  cool  and  steady  eye  had  watched  the 
pulsations  of  the  throng,  and  just  as  the  vehicle  was  fairly  sur- 
rounded he  drew  his  revolver  and  ordered  the  leaders  of  the 
mob  back.  Detective  Smith  was  ordered  to  present  his  Win- 
chester, which  he  did,  and  the  officer  on  the  steps  also  covered 
those  nearest  him.  The  crowd  fell  back  and  the  driver  lashed 
his  horses  into  a  run,  ploughing  through  the  crowd.  Numbers 
followed,  intent  on  overtaking  the  omnibus  and  capturing  the 
criminals,  while  others  rushed  on  to  see  the  results.  The  tide 
swept  down  Blake  street  in  a  wild  disordered  procession.  The 
driver  was  instructed  to  push  the  horses,  and  in  a  few  moments 
the  prisoners  were  securely  locked  in  the  jail,  to  their  great 
relief,  and  to  the  disappointment  of  the  crowd  that  had  fol- 
lowed, hoping  to  see  them  dangle  from  the  limb  of  some  tree 
or  suspended  from  a  telegraph  pole. 


70  THE  ITALIAN  MURDERS. 

Great  satisfaction  was  felt  that  these  wretches  had  beeu 
secured,  and  the  public  sentiment,  which  always  sooner  or 
later  arrives  at  correct  conclusions,  could  find  no  praise  too  flat- 
tering for  the  able  superintendent  and  his  worthy  assistants. 

After  hearing  the  news  from  Trinidad,  and  especially  that 
which  told  of  the  presence  of  some  of  those  who  had  been  im- 
plicated in  the  murders  near  Denver,  Gen.  Cook  was  not  idle, 
but  he  went  to  work  to  make  investigations  here.  He  began 
by  arresting  an  Italian  known  as  "Old  Joe,"  who  lived  on  the 
ranch  near  Sloane's  lake,  with  Deodotta.  Joe  was  placed  in 
jail  for  a  day  or  so.  He  was  a  half-crazy  creature,  and  it  was 
believed  that  he  could  be  made  to  tell  whatever  he  might  know 
of  the  facts  in  the  case.  He  was  consequently  informed  by  Cook 
that  he  must  either  divulge  his  secrets  or  submit  to  sudden 
annihilation.  He  promised  to  reveal  everything,  but  when  taken 
by  Gen.  Cook  out  to  the  place  where  the  treasure  was  supposed 
to  be  buried,  he  failed  to  find  the  spot,  either  because  of  ignor- 
ance or  craftiness. 

Better  success  was  had  with  Deodotta.  He  was  also  placed 
under  arrest,  and  after  being  told  that  he  must  die  or  tell  where 
the  money  taken  from  old  Pecorra's  house  had  been  buried,  he 
promised  to  do  all  in  his  power  to  find  it.  He  was  accordingly 
taken  from  the  jail  one  morning  before  sunrise  and  driven  out 
to  his  house  and  told  to  find  the  treasure,  no  one  accompanying 
the  detective  and  his  prisoner  except  the  driver  of  the  express 
wagon.  Arriving  at  the  place,  Deodotta  made  a  last  effort  to 
conceal  the  whereabouts  of  the  money,  and  when  his  protesta- 
tions were  doubted  he  crossed  his  breast  and  prayed  with  fervor. 
When  Cook  swore  at  him,  he  crawled  on  his  knees  and  cried 
before  him  like  a  sniveling  cu£.  After  digging  in  one  or  two 
places  for  the  money  and  failing  to  find  it,  Cook  leveled  his 
gun  at  the  old  sinner's  head  and  said  to  him: 

"Now  find  that  money  in  just  one  minute  or  I'll  kill  you 
where  you  stand." 

There  was  no  foolishness  now.  Quick  as  thought  Deodotta 
jumped  to  a  spot  where  lay  a  bone  and  where  a  weed  was 
standing  with  the  top  end  stuck  in  the  ground,  and  with  two 
or  three  strokes  of  the  pick,  brought  thf  treasure  to  light.     It 


THE  ITALIAN  MURDERS.  73 

consisted  of  a  package  of  money  amounting  to  |350  which  had 
belonged  to  the  murdered  man,  and  which  was  picked  up  and 
brought  back  to  town  by  Gen.  Cook,  and  Deodotta  once  more 
lodged  in  jail.  Thus  was  a  very  essential  part  of  the  work 
performed  with  but  little  ostentation  and  no  blow  in  the  news- 
papers. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

ON  GALLOTTI'S  TRACK— A  LETTER  REVEALS  HIS  FLIGHT  TO  MEXICO 
WITH  FERNANDEZ,  ANNATTA  AND  VALENTINE— DETECTIVE 
SMITH  IN  SAN  LUIS  VALLEY  AS  AN  OFFICER  FOR  UNCLE  SAM 
AND  A  SHEEP  BUYER— THE  MURDERERS  RUN  DOWN  AT  LAST  AND 
CAPTURED  AT  THE  POINT  OF  A  PISTOL— A  FRIEND  WHO  WAS 
NOT  A  FRIEND— A  LONG  BUT  FRUITFUL  CHASE  AFTER  VALEN- 
TINE. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  Gen.  Cook  had  been  devoting 
his  entire  attention  to  either  the  men  who  had  been  captured 
at  Trinidad  or  those  taken  near  Denver.  He  had  now  learned 
enough  to  know  that  Gallotti  had  been  the  organizer  and  head 
executor  of  the  quadruple  murder,  and  him  he  wanted  more 
than  any  other  of  the  gang  of  cut-throats.  He  had  been  seeking 
anxiously  for  some  clue  that  would  reveal  the  whereabouts  of 
this  wretch  and  lead  to  his  capture.  The  most  assiduous  at- 
tention and  the  most  arduous  labor  seemed  at  first  likely  to 
prove  barren  of  results.  At  last  one  night,  however,  Gen.  Cook 
was  summoned  to  a  dark  side  of  the  street  by  an  individual, 
who  poured  into  the  general's  anxious  ear  the  story  of  the  flight 
of  the  chief  of  the  band  and  three  of  his  accomplices.  This 
man  was  a  friend  of  the  Spaniard,  Fernandez,  and  to  convince 
the  detective  that  he  spoke  the  truth  he  pulled  a  letter  from 
his  pocket,  from  Fernandez,  bearing  the  post  mark  of  Fort 
Garland,  in  San  Luis  park.  This  letter  was  turned  over  to 
Gen.  Cook,  and  being  lead  revealed  the  welcome  news  that 
Gallotti  and  Fernandez  and  Anatta  were  then  in  San  Luis  park, 
making  their  way  to  Mexico  by  going  down  the  Kio  Grande  river. 
The  letter  told  further  that  they  were  traveling  by  slow  stages, 
that  because  Gallotti  had  sent  Valentine  back  to  Denver  on 
horseback  to  carry  certain  instructions  to  Deodotta  and  to  bring 
the  money  deposited  near  Sloan's  lake  to  him. 

This  was  about  as  good  a  thing  as  Cook  w^anted.  He  slept 
but  little  that  night,  but  devoted  himself  with  all  the  intensity 


THE  ITALIAN  MURDERS.  75 

of  his  nature  to  maturing  plans  for  the  pursuit  and  capture  of 
the  outlaws.  He  decided  to  put  the  pursuing  expedition  in 
charge  of  Smith,  who  should  be  accompanied  by  an  Italian  who 
had  taken  the  American  name  of  James  Lewis,  and  who,  bv 
the  way,  afterwards  became  the  notorious  Arizona  Bill.  This 
man  knew  Gallotti  and  besides  spoke  English  as  well  as  Italian. 
He  was  known  to  be  faithful  and  was  considered  "  a  happy  hit." 

The  two  men  were  off  early  the  next  morning,  bound  for  the 
southward,  Smith  carrying  a  letter  from  Cook  to  Maj.  Horace 
Jewett,  who  was  then  in  command  at  Fort  Garland,  informing  the 
major  of  the  mission  of  the  detectives  and  requesting  him  to 
furnish  them  with  whatever  facilities  might  be  required  for  the 
prosecution  of  their  work.  They  were  told  to  obtain  army 
horses  and  to  dress  as  soldiers,  for  Americans  other  than  ''blue- 
coats"  were  then  scarce  in  San  Luis,  and  likely  to  create  sus- 
picion. Armed  with  these  and  other  instructions  from  their 
chief,  the  men  departed  upon  their  mission,  going  as  far  as  they 
could  in  the  cars,  the  Denver  and  Kio  Grande  railroad  then  being 
completed  onlj'  to  Walsenburg.  Leaving  the  railroad  they  turned 
their  faces  westward,  towards  San  Luis  park. 

After  walking  a  few  miles  they  secured  a  team  of  horses 
from  a  ranchman,  with  which  they  expected  to  continue  the 
journey.  The  horses  unfortunately  were  affected  with  the  epi- 
zootic, then  raging,  and  proved  a  source  of  inconvenience  and 
annoyance.  From  one  place  to  another  through  the  San  Luis 
valley  the  trail  was  steadily  followed.  At  Fort  Garland,  Maj. 
Jewett  received  the  officers  cordially  and  entered  heartily  into 
the  plan  suggested  by  Gen.  Cook,  giving  Smith  and  Lewis  sol- 
diers' uniforms  and  a  pair  of  government  mules  branded  "U,  S." 
Assuming  the  7'ole  of  government  officers  in  search  of  deserters, 
the  pursuers  continued  their  journey  to  Culabra,  where  it  was 
hoped  to  intercept  the  criminals.  But  in  this  hope  the  officers 
were  disappointed,  for  upon  arriving  there  it  was  discovered  that 
the  men  sought  had  gone  further  southward.  But  a  point  was 
gained  in  learning  that  they  were  on  the  trail. 

It  was  ascertained  that  while  in  Culabra,  the  fugitives  had 
stopped  at  the  house  of  a  Frenchman.  The  Frenchman  was  ready 
to  render  any  assistance  in  his  power,  and  to  this  end  informed 


76  THE  ITALIAN  MURDERS. 

the  detective  that  the  men  had  gone  on  foot  about  fourteen  miles 
down  Culabra  creek.  By  a  little  sharp  practice  it  was  discov- 
ered that  the  Frenchman  was  endeavoring  to  aid  the  criminals 
and  had  himself  lent  them  horses  and  accompanied  them  on  the 
road  towards  Taos,  N.  M. 

Detective  Smith  here  suddenly  conceived  a  violent  passion 
for  the  sheep  business.  His  suit  of  blue  was  changed  for  a  brand 
new  one  corresponding  with  his  newly  assumed  avocation,  and  a 
broad-brimmed  hat  and  a  glittering  array  of  jewelry  completed 
the  make-up  of  as  perfect  a  stock  king  as  ever  proudly  paced  the 
soil  of  New  Mexico.  A  gentleman  named  Thaw,  who  had  for- 
merly been  a  policeman  in  Denver,  and  who  was  now  living  in 
San  Luis,  was  called  upon,  and  the  detective's  wand  also  trans- 
formed him  into  a  sheep  buyer,  and  he  was  at  once  admitted  as  a 
partner  in  the  imaginary  firm.  The  interpreter,  Lewis,  was  also 
given  a  new  role,  or  rather  a  double  character.  He  was  to  ride 
along  the  road  and  inquire  for  his  "partners,"  describing  the 
other  Italians  whom  they  were  pursuing,  and  at  various  places 
he  would  also  claim  to  be  connected  with  the  firm  of  sheep  pur- 
chasers as  an  assistant.  At  Sierra  de  Guadaloupe  they  passed 
one  night,  and  Lewis  lost  no  time  in  spreading  the  news  that  the 
detective  and  his  partner  were  men  of  means,  traveling  through 
the  country  for  the  purpose  of  buying  sheep.  The  entire  popula- 
tion turned  out  to  see  them,  and  by  cautious  inquiries  they 
learned  that  the  murderers  had  undoubtedly  gone  toward  Taos. 

Before  daylight  the  officers  were  on  the  road  again,  and  by 
rapid  driving  reached  Taos  during  the  afternoon.  Repairing  to 
the  only  hotel  in  the  place,  the  detective  again  "talked  sheep," 
and  soon  gathered  around  a  good  share  of  the  population,  nearly 
all  of  whom  had  sheep  to  exchange  for  the  ducats  the  detective 
was  supposed  to  possess.  Here  it  was  learned  that  there  were 
only  about  thirty-five  Americans  in  the  county,  the  balance  of 
the  population  consisting  of  Mexicans  and  Pueblo  Indians,  and 
all  the  oflQcers  being  Mexicans,  which  was  a  point  against  the 
detectives.  They  kept  a  vigilant  outlook  for  Lewis,  and  ere  long 
that  individual  was  observed  approaching,  mounted  on  his  mule, 
wearing  a  most  abject  mien.  Turning  at  once  to  Thaw,  Smith 
exclaimed  in  a  loud  voice:   "Here  comes  that  d — d  greaser,  look- 


i|!"jiF;;0;niliiif|Ji'!'ii|||;i 


mm 

viii    .Ui=l'';' 

mm" 


THE  ITALIAN  MURDERS.  7t) 

ing  for  his  partners."     The  remark  attracted  attention,  and  as 
Lewis  dismounted  the  crowd  went  to  the  door. 

Lewis  commenced  inquiries  for 'his  "partners,"  and  as  he 
talked  Spanish  fluently,  he  soon  discovered  that  three  men  an- 
swering the  description  given  were  then  in  the  town.  Bidding  the 
interpreter  to  remain  at  the  hotel,  the  detectives  at  once  went  to 
a  store  kept  by  two  Americans  named  Miller  and  Clothier.  Here 
they  ascertained  that  Filomeno  Gallotti  had  borrowed  a  gun, 
and  that  he  had  left  five  |20  gold  pieces  to  sell. 

Being  satisfied  that  they  had  the  criminals  almost  within 
their  grasp,  Mr.  Smith  cast  about  for  some  plan  whereby  they 
could  entrap  them.  To  that  end  he  sent  for  Thaw  and  Lewis, 
and  Gallotti  was  then  sought  out  and  brought  to  the  store  undei 
the  pretext  that  Clothier  desired  to  sell  more  gold  for  him.  Al- 
though a  wily  and  cunning  brute,  Gallotti  suspected  nothing, 
and  almost  immediately  presented  himself  in  front  of  the  store, 
where  he  met  Lewis,  who,  in  a  surprised  and  highly  delighted 
manner^  grasped  Gallotti  by  the  hand.  That  grasp  was  not  one 
easily  to  be  shaken  off,  however,  for  fingers  of  iron  held  the  crim- 
inal's hand  as  in  a  vise  of  steel.  A  moment  later  Smith  came  up 
from  behind  and  seized  Gallotti's  left  hand,  as  if  also  to  shake 
hands,  and  turning  he  gazed  into  the  muzzle  of  a  cocked  revolver. 

Gallotti  realized  instantly  that  he  had  been  entrapped,  and 
that  resistance  would  be  worse  than  useless,  and  begged  piteously 
for  his  life.  He  was  disarmed  and  handcuffed,  and  the  leader  of 
the  band  of  murderers  was  in  the  clutch  of  the  law. 

But  how  were  the  others  to  be  secured?  Fate  made  this 
easy  of  accomplishment,  for  hardly  had  the  handcuffs  clicked 
around  the  wrists  of  the  prisoner  than  another  Italian  entered 
the  store.  He  was  promptly  seized,  but  proved  to  be  a  resident 
of  the  place.  He  was  badly  frightened,  however,  and  seeing  this 
the  detective  told  him  he  would  be  allowed  his  freedom  provided 
he  would  bring  Fernandez  and  Anatta  to  them.  To  this  demand 
he  gladly  acceded,  and  soon  returned  with  John  Anatta,  who 
was  at  once  overpowered  and  placed  in  irons.  [The  artist  has 
chosen  to  group  the  capture,  and  is  a  little  at  fault,  but  not  seri- 
ously so,  as  he  presents  the  scene  soon  after  the  taking.] 

One  other  of  the  men  for  whom  the  officers  were  searching 


80  THE  ITALIAN  MURDERS. 

was  still  unsecured.  By  judicious  inquiry  it  was  learned  that 
this  one  was  Henry  Fernandez,  the  Mexican,  the  knowledge  of 
whose  connection  with  the  crime  had  led  Gen.  Cook  to  infer  so 
correctly  that  the  criminals  had  gone  south.  It  was  ascertained 
that  he  had  gone  that  morning  in  the  direction  of  Eed  river. 
The  Mexican  officials  of  the  county  insisted  upon  a  requisition 
being  shown  before  they  would  consent  to  see  the  oflScers  depart 
with  their  men,  but  their  qualms  of  conscience  were  eased  by  the 
presentation  of  a  purse  of  |100,  and  the  captors  and  captives  were 
allowed  to  depart.  The  detectives  at  once  gave  chase  to  Fer- 
nandez, and  reached  Bed  river  at  night.  Here  they  discovered 
the  house  in  which  Fernandez  was  sleeping,  and  soon  had  secured 
him. 

Having  three  of  the  fugitives  for  whom  they  had  been  in 
pursuit,  the  detectives  pushed  on  rapidly  to  Fort  Garland,  and 
thence  to  Pueblo.  After  an  uneventful  journey  the  railroad  was 
reached,  and  the  second  trio  of  prisoners  were  soon  en  route  for 
Denver.  • 

The  fact  that  the  capture  had  been  accomplished  was  kept 
comparatively  quiet,  the  previous  lesson  having  been  sufficient 
for  the  officers.  But  a  large  crowd  was  present  when  they  landed 
at  the  depot.  The  manacled  murderers  were  lifted  bodily  from 
the  cars  and  placed  in  an  omnibus.  A  few  policemen  rode  on  the 
top,  Gen.  Cook  being  inside  with  Smith  and  the  prisoners,  having 
joined  them  down  the  road.  Aside  from  the  presence  of  the  offi- 
cers there  was  nothing  in  the  appearance  of  the  party  to  attract 
attention.  The  crowd  followed  the  vehicle  out  of  curiosity,  mani- 
festing no  especial  feeling,  probably  remembering  the  prompt  re- 
buff they  had  met  on  the  previous  occasion. 

After  Gallotti  and  his  crowd  were  placed  in  jail  they  were 
seated  for  a  few  moments  in  a  row  along  the  wall,  while  re- 
porters, officers  and  others  passed  around,  eager  to  scan  the  faces 
and  to  discuss  the  relative  depravity  of  the  interesting  trio. 

Thus  were  eight  of  the  monstrous  butchers  pursued  and  cap- 
tured. But  one  other  was  yet  at  large,  and  Superintendent  Cook 
considered  his  task  incomplete  while  any  of  the  death-dealing 
demons  were  free  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  their  awful  crime.  Frank 
Valentine  was  the  only  one  of  the  number  now  at  liberty.    He 


THE  ITALIAN  MURDERS. 


81 


had  returned  to  Denver,  but  found  his  accomplices  locked  up, 
and  had  wisely  taken  his  departure  to  return  to  Gallotti.  Valen- 
tine had  been  a  companion  and  associate  of  the  gang  at  the  tin- 
shop,  but  aside  from  the  fact  that  he  bore  the  title  of  "The 
Miner,"  and  that  he  had  come  on  this  mission  for  the  chief  mur- 
derer, but  little  was  known  concerning  him. 

Superintendent  Cook  silently  commenced  a  series  of  close 
investigations,  and  finally  concluded  that  this  man  was  at  least 
an  accessory.  That  brutal  instinct  given  vent  when  the  crime 
was  committed  was  still  apparent  in  those  already  secured  in  the 
jail,  and  they  seemed  anxious  that  Valentine  should  be  cap- 
tured, and  from  hints  let  drop  by  them  Cook  was  enabled  to  trace 
the  fellow  back  towards  New  Mexico. 

All  of  the  members  of  the  detective  association  had  been  in- 
structed by  the  chief  to  keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  him,  and  one  day 
it  was  learned  that  he  was  in  the  vicinity  of  McCorkle's  ranch, 
in  Costilla  county.  Thomas  T.  Bartlett  was  then  sheriff  in  Cos- 
tilla county  and  a  member  of  the  detective  association,  and  he 
was  soon  on  Valentine's  trail.  One  day  the  officer  found  himself 
near  the  ranch  about  the  hour  of  noon.  Feeling  hungry  and 
fatigued,  he  determined  to  visit  the  house  and  obtain  refresh- 
ments for  the  inner  man.  While  seated  at  the  table  a  rap  was 
heard  on  the  outer  door,  and  in  obedience  to  the  summons  "Come 
in,"  who  should  enter  but  the  yctj  man  for  whom  the  officer  was 
in  search.  The  assassin  asked  for  something  to  eat,  and  while 
he  was  dispatching  his  dinner  the  detective  engaged  him  in  con- 
versation, and  carelessly  asked  him  if  he  had  a  pistol.  He  replied 
in  the  affirmative  and  handed  it  over  for  examination.  The  officer 
informed  him  that  it  was  a  fine  pistol — a  very  fine  pistol,  and 
that  he  wanted  it.  Suddenly  changing  his  manner,  he  added  that 
he  also  wanted  the  owner  of  the  Aveapon. 

The  startled  Italian  gazed  alternately  into  the  muzzle  of  the 
presented  revolver  and  the  cool  eye  of  the  officer,  and  saw  that 
the  man  was  terribly  in  earnest.  Kealizing  that  escape  was  im- 
possible, he  surrendered,  and  while  denying  that  he  took  any 
active  part  in  the  assassination,  he  admitted  that  he  was  a  spec- 
tator to  that  horrible  slaughter.  He  was  brought  to  Denver, 
where  Superintendent  Cook  met  him  at  the  depot,  and  soon  he 
was  behind  the  bars  of  the  county  jail. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  ITALIAN  MURDERERS  TELL  THE  STORY  OF  THE  CRIME— A  SERIES 
OF  BLOOD-CURDLING  NARRATIVES,  INTERESTING  ACCOUNTS 
FROM  THE  MOST  PROMINENT  OF  THE  BUTCHERS— GALLOTTl 
GIVES  HIS  VERSION— HOW  THE  MUSIC  PLAYED  WHILE  THE 
THROATS    WERE    CUT— DRINKING   THE    BLOOD   OF' THE   VICTIMS. 

So  prompt  liad  been  the  retribution  overtaking  the  band  that 
the  popular  desire  for  revenge  was  in  a  measure  appeased,  and  all 
seemed  to  be  confident  that  the  law  would  effectually  dispose  of 
the  bloody  crew.  Before  showing  how  the  people  were  disap- 
pointed in  this,  and  prior  to  relating  the  means  by  which  these 
villains  escaped  the  gallows,  it  would  be  interesting  to  visit  the 
jail  and,  by  conversing  separately  with  the  prisoners,  ascertain 
so  far  as  possible  the  manner  by  which  the  four  victims  came  to 
their  death.  With  the  exception  of  Gallotti,  they  were  all  willing 
to  talk  of  the  affair. 

The  jailer  leads  the  way  to  his  cell.  A  dark-eyed  man  with 
the  keen,  cool,  deadly  look  which  only  a  murderer  by  birth  and 
education  could  possess,  rises  to  see  who  comes  as  the  iron  door 
swings  open.  He  is  rather  a  small  man,  but  has  a  well-knit,  com- 
pact frame,  and  evidently  possesses  considerable  muscular  activ- 
ity and  strength.  His  eyes  are  small  and  piercing  and  have  a  ser- 
Ijentine  look.  In  this  look  can  be  found  one  of  the  reasons  why 
he  was  able  to  absolutely  control  the  band,  to  whom  Ee  was  more 
than  king  or  czar.  Possessing  some  education,  with  an  unbend- 
ing will,  a  heart  devoid  of  pity,  a  conscience  knowing  no  regret 
and  with  those  glittering  eyes,  transfixing  the  one  who  had 
dared  to  displease  him,  he  was  just  what  his  ambition  desired — 
the  chief  of  a  desperate  band  of  banditti,  whose  pastimes  were 
the  cutting  of  throats  and  whose  revels  were  in  scenes  of  blood. 
He  would  not  talk  at  length,  but  when  it  was  suggested  to  him 
that  ''It  is  said  that  you  were  the  leading  spirit  in  that  affair," 
replied:  "I  am  not.  The  others  did  the  murder,  and  now  are  try- 
ing to  drag  me  into  it." 


.■J 


THE  ITALIAN  MURDERS.  85 

So  Gallotti  will  not  talk.  Let  lis  visit  Allessandri  and  get 
his  story.  This  boy  (for  he  is  scarcely  more  than  a  boy)  was  the 
first  to  make  any  statement  to  the  oflieers,  and  he  can  think  or 
talk  of  nothing  but  the  crime.  He  looks  up  as  his  cell  is  entered 
and  readily  answers  all  questions. 

His  story  as  he  relates  it,  with  great  rapidity  and  constant 
gesticulation,  is  as  follows:  "The  band  consisted  of  Gallotti, 
Anatta,  Ballotti,  Campagne  and  a  miner,  I  was  forced  to  join 
them  against  my  will,  but  was  powerless  to  resist  Gallotti.  The 
killing  commenced  Frida}',  October  15,  at  half-past  one  o'clock 
p.  m.  I  was  playing  a  harp  in  the  front  room.  The  old  man, 
called  Joe  in  English,  the  biggest  boy  and  one  or  two  others  were 
playing  cards  in  the  front  room.  The  cards  lay  on  a  box  and  the 
players  were  seated  around  in  a  circle.  Ballotti,  Campagne  and 
'the  miner'  were  playing,  too.  Gallotti,  the  boss  tinker,  was 
standing  up  and  watching  the  game.  Suddenly  Gallotti  reached 
under  his  coat,  drew  a  knife,  seized  the  old  man  by  the  hair,  drew 
his  head  back  and  with  one  powerful  stroke  cut  his  throat  from 
ear  to  ear.  The  blood  flew  upon  the  cards  and  into  the  faces 
of  the  other  players.  Not  yet  content,  Gallotti  stabbed  the  old 
man  in  several  places  and,  releasing  his  hold,  he  let  the  lifeless 
body  fall  on  the  floor.  At  the  same  time  the  others  seized  the 
big  boy  who  was  sitting  at  my  side  playing  the  harp,  but  he  made 
a  desjierate  resistance  and  tried  to  fight  them  off. 

"Seeing  that  the  others  were  not  very  successful,  Gallotti 
left  old  Joe's  body  and,  grabbing  the  boy,  cut  his  throat,  crying 
to  me,  Tlay  louder!'  In  the  struggle  they  all  used  knives,  and 
Anatta  cut  his  fingers  so  badly  that  when  they  ceased  bleeding 
he  could  not  close  them. 

"I  kept  on  playing  the  harp,  for  I  did  not  dare  stop,  and  I 
was  so  frightened  that  ]  trembled  violently.  Once  I  stopped 
playing,  but  Gallotti  shook  me  and,  drawing  his  knife  across  my 
throat,  told  me  he  would  cut  my  d — d  head  off  if  I  did  not  play 
on.    So  I  started  up  again. 

"They  let  the  bodies  lay  where  they  had  fallen,  and  some  one 
threw  blankets  over  them.  In  about  half  an  hour  the  other  two 
came  into  the  yard,  carrying  their  harps.  Gallotti  watched  the 
front  door  and  Ballotti  stood  guard  at  the  rear  one.    The  smaller 


g(5  THE  ITALIAN  MURDERS. 

one  came  in  first,  carrying  his  violin  under  his  arm.  Gallotti 
seized  him  and,  driving  a  linife  to  the  hilt  just  under  his  right 
ear,  cut  the  boj's  throat.  The  little  boy  who  played  the  harp 
came  up  to  the  door  and,  catching  a  glimpse  of  the  blood,  at- 
tempted to  retreat,  but  Silvestro  seized  him  and  dragged  him 
into  the  house.  As  Silvestro  did  not  succeed  in  cutting  his  throat 
very  quickly,  Anatta  went  to  his  aid.  But  the  boy  escaped  them 
and  ran,  bleeding  and  crying,  into  the  front  room,  where  Gallotti 
caught  him  around  the  neck  with  one  hand  and,  with  the  boy's 
head  under  his  arm,  cut  his  throat  from  ear  to  ear. 

"I  was  still  playing  on  the  harp,  but  the  sight  of  dead  bodies 
and  the  blood  running  on  the  floor  made  me  sick.  Filoraeno  made 
me  lick  his  knife  and  ordered  me  to  drink  some  of  the  blood. 
He  scraped  up  a  handful  of  blood  running  from  the  big  boy's 
throat  and  drank  it,  the  others  doing  likewise,  as  a  pledge  of  fidel- 
ity. They  then  threw  th«,'  bodies  into  the  cellar  and  commanded 
me  to  continue  playing,  as  the  music  deadened  the  noise  and 
would  divert  any  suspicion  that  might  be  entertained.  Some  of 
the  bodies  they  dragged  and  some  they  carried  to  the  trap-door, 
where  they  threw  them  into  the  cellar.  Filomeno  or  some  one 
else  then  went  into  the  cellar  and  secured  the  money.  I  don't 
know  how  much  was  obtained,  but  he  gave  Ballotti  $140,  another 
$40  and  handed  me  $20. 

"After  everybody  had  washed  their  hands  and  taken  off  their 
bloody  shirts,  which  were  thrown  into  the  cellar,  we  took  four 
revolvers,  locked  the  doors  and  went  to  the  tin-shop  on  Fifteenth 
street.  About  9  o'clock  that  night  Filomeno,  Deodotta,  Ballotti, 
Valentine,  Guiseppe  and  the  light-haired  tinker  went  back  to  the 
house.  I  did  not  go,  but  went  to  sleep  between  two  tinkers,  who, 
I  think,  knew  all  about  the  murder,  for  Filomeno  told  them  to 
watch  me,  and  also  told  me  that  if  I  said  anything  about  the 
murder,  or  attempted  to  run  away,  he  would  kill  me.  That  night 
Ballotti,  Campagne  and  I  walked  to  Littleton,  where  we  slept 
near  the  depot  until  a  freight  train  arrived,  which  we  boarded 
and  rode  on  to  Pueblo. 

"I  came  from  Central  City  about  three  weeks  before  the 
murder,  and  Filomeno  told  me  he  should  kill  the  old  man  and  the 
boys.    I  was  afraid  to  tell  any  one,  fearing  that  he  would  kill  me, 


THE   riALlAX   :SI ORDERS. 


87 


too,  and  the  gang  never  allowed  me  out  of  their  sight,  day  or 
night.  Filomeno  told  us  he  was  going  to  Mexico,  and  would 
write  to  us." 

As  the  musician  who  played  the  harp  as  an  accompaniment 
while  the  throat-cutting  was  in  progress  has  talked  so  plainly, 
let  us  visit  Ballotti  and,  if  possible,  obtain  from  him  an  account 
of  the  crime.  Entering  the  cell,  a  rather  good-looking  young 
man,  of  a  compact  frame  and  with  the  dark  skin  of  an  Italian, 
comes  forward  to  greet  us.    He  commences  his  story  as  follows: 

"When   I  came  here  some  months  ago,   Filomeno  Gallotti 
assisted  me  in  many  ways,  and  placed  his  house  and  his  purse  at 
my  disposal.    He  finally  told  me  that  he  intended  to  kill  the  old 
man  and  the  boys,  and  I  endeavored  to  obtain  funds  sufficient  to 
go  to  Cheyenne  and  get  away,  but  in  this  I  was  unsuccessful, 
and  I  told  Deodotta,  together  with  another  man  at  Sloan's  lake, 
what  plans  had  been  made.    Filomeno  told  us  to  go  to  the  house 
on  Lawrence  street  and  pretend  to  teach  the  boys  music,  and  we 
were  thus  engaged  for  three  days  prior  to  the  murder.     After 
Filomeno  cut  the  old  man's  throat,  he  gave  me  a  knife  and  told 
me  to  help  the  others.     I  did  not  wish  to  kill  them,  but,  fearing 
Filomeno,  I  drew  the  back  of  the  knife  across  the  big  boy's 
throat,  but  did  not  hurt  him.    When  the  last  two  came  Filomeno 
stood  behind  the  door  and,  as  the  little  one  entered,  carrying  his 
harp,  he  said,  holding  up  a  fancy  article  he  had  purchased,  'Look 
here.    I  have  bought  you  something  nice  to-day,'  and  just  then  he 
seized  the  poor  boy,  pulled  him  down  upon  the  floor  and,  putting 
his  knee  on  his  head,  said,  in  Italian:  'Ah,  my  boy,  I've  got  you 
now.'     With  that  he  thrust  his  knife  up  to  the  hilt  back  of  the 
ear  and  gashed  the  throat  wide  open.    When  the  other  entered, 
Filomeno,  the  miner  and  the  tall  tinker  cut  him  all  to  pieces. 
He  held  on  to  his  harp  and  ran  around  the  room  with  his  throat 
cut,  the  blood  pouring  from  the  wounds  in  a  torrent,  and  Filo- 
meno pursuing  and  stabbing  him.     Finally  he  succumbed  and 
fell  with  the  harp  on  top  of  him.    The  old  man  wore  a  belt  filled 
with  gold,  and  Filomeno  divided  it  around.    In  all,  I  suppose  the 
belt  contained  about  |1,400." 

From  this  point  on  the  story  contained  only  unimportant 
details. 


88  THE  ITALIAN  MURDERS. 

Says  John  Anatta,  another  of  the  murderers,  when  talked  to : 
"I  can  not  sleep,  for  'Old  Joe's'  spirit  haunts  my  dreams,  and 
when  he  approaches  me  I  seem  to  be  cutting  his  throat.  But  no 
sooner  have  I  done  so  thrm  a  brand  new  one  takes  its  place,  and 
I  awake  horrified.  It  was  awful,  but  I  could  not  help  it,  and  I 
did  not  do  any  of  the  cutting.  I  hit  one  of  the  boys  on  the  head, 
but  the  knife  bent  and  cut  my  hand,  and  that  was  all  I  did." 

Let  us  again  visit  Gallotti,  and  after  we  have  told  him  what 
the  others  say,  perhaps  he  will  be  induced  to  give  some  account 
of  the  horrible  butchery  in  which  it  is  claimed  he  took  such  a 
prominent  part.  A  dark  scowl  again  greets  us,  but  he  is  in  better 
humor — just  in  trim  to  cut  throats  were  the  occasion  propitious. 

"Now,  see  here,  Gallotti,  the  others  have  told  us  all  about 
this  affair,  and  you  might  as  well  say  something,  too." 

"Well,  you  see,  I  commenced  the  job  at  the  card  table,  by 
catching  'Old  Joe'  by  the  hair  and  sawing  my  knife  across  his 
throat  until  he  was  quite  dead.  I  helped  to  kill  one  of  the  boys, 
as  the  others  were  making  a  bad  job  of  it.  I  then  put  up  my 
knife  and  watched  Anatta,  Ballotti  and  Guiseppe  cut  the  other 
two.  I  secured  $800  in  gold  and  |377  in  currency,  but  I  gave  the 
most  of  it  to  the  others.  I  conceived  the  idea  of  the  murder 
some  time  ago,  and  when  I  broached  the  subject  to  the  others 
individually  and  at  different  times,  they  all  were  eager  to  engage 
in  the  scheme.  My  reason  for  killing  the  old  man  was  this: 
Several  years  ago  I  lived  in  New  Orleans  and,  being  successful 
in  business,  my  countrymen  often  deposited  their  savings  with 
me.  The  sum  thus  entrusted  to  me  increased  until  I  had  about 
six  thousand  dollars  of  other  people's  money.  Thinking  it  proper 
to  invest  this,  I  loaned  it  to  a  fruit  dealer,  who  promised  to  pay  a 
fair  rate  of  interest  on  the  amount  advanced.  Subsequently,  and 
as  I  afterwards  learned,  by  'Old  Joe's'  advice,  the  fruit  dealer 
decamped  with  the  money.  I  followed  him  all  over  the  country, 
but  finally  my  means  became  exhausted  and  I  came  to  Denver, 
where  I  settled  down  at  my  trade.  One  day  I  was  asked  to  write 
a  letter  for  the  man  on  Lawrence  street,  and  when  the  address 
was  signed,  I  learned  for  the  first  time  that  'Old  Joe'  was  the  one 
who  advised  the  fruit  dealer  to  abscond  with  the  six  thousand 
dollars.    I  kept  this  to  myself,  but  continued  to  watch  him,  and 


THE  ITALIAN  MURDERS.  89 

finally  was  satisfied  that  he  was  the  identical  'Joe'  who  had  been 
in  New  Orleans.  Then  I  determined  to  kill  him,  and  enlisted  the 
others  in  the  plot.  They  are  as  guilty  as  I,  and  deserve  as  severe 
a  punishment." 

This  being  all  ^allotti  has  to  say,  we  are  forced  to  withdraw. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

TRIALS  OF  THE  ITALIANS— THEY  ESCAPE  THE  GALLOWS  THROUGH 
A  TECHNICALITY  OF  THE  LAW— GALLOTTI,  BALLOTTI,  CAM- 
PAGNE  AND  VALENTINE  RECEIVE  LIFE  SENTENCES  AND  THE 
OTHERS  GET  OFF  LIGHTLY. 

It  would  seem  from  the  evidence  and  their  own  confessions 
that  this  band  would  surely  be  hung.  But  such  a  fate  was  not  in 
store  for  them.  On  Saturday,  December  4,  1875,  the  preliminary 
examination  was  had  before  Justices  Whittemore  and  Sayer. 
Gallotti  and  Ballotti  pleaded  guilty,  and,  together  John  Anatta, 
Leonardo  Allessandri,  Guiseppe  Campagne,  Leonardo  Deodotta, 
Frank  Valentine,  Guiseppe  Pinachio  and  Henry  Fernandez,  they 
were  bound  over  to  the  district  court  for  trial  on  the  26th  day 
of  the  following  January.  John  Anatta  and  Allessandri,  the 
young  harpist,  turned  state's  evidence  before  the  grand  jury  and 
indictments  were  returned  against  the  entire  band.  On  the  30th 
of  January  the  accused  were  brought  into  court  and  counsel  was 
assigned  them. 

February  8  they  were  arraigned,  pleaded  not  guilty,  and  their 
cases  were  set  for  trial  during  the  April  term.  May  20  Gallotti 
was  before  the  court  and  pleaded  guilty.  Great  excitement  was 
occasioned  when  it  became  known  that  under  a  section  of  the 
statutes  he  could  not  be  hung,  a  life  sentence  being  the  utmost 
penalty  in  cases  when  the  accused  entered  a  plea  of  guilty.  The 
next  day  Balloti  was  arraigned  and  endeavored  to  withdraw  his 
plea  of  not  guilty.  The  motion,  for  reasons  not  clearly  appar- 
ent, was  overruled  and  his  case  was  set  for  trial  on  the  following 
day.  The  evidence  in  the  trial  of  Ballotti  was  simply  a  repetition 
of  the  facts  already  known  to  the  reader,  and  a  verdict  of  murder 
in  the  first  degree  was  rendered. 

It  was  decided  that  under  the  law  Gallotti  could  be  tried  in 
spite  of  his  plea.  When  arraigned  Gallotti  again  entered  the  plea 
of  guilty,  and  it  was  considered  proper  to  carry  his  case  to  the 
supreme  court  as  a  test  of  the  loose  law  then  in  force.    The  same 


THE  ITALIAN  MT  RDERS.  "  9]^ 

proceedings  were  had  in  the  ease  of  Frank  Valentine.  Campagne 
also  pleaded  guilty,  and  Anatta  and  Allessandri  entered  special 
pleas  of  voluntary  manslaughter.  Deodotta  was  acquitted  on  the 
charge  of  being  accessory,  and  the  following  sentences  were 
meted  out  to  the  bloodiest  band  that  ever  went  unhung:  Gal- 
lotti,  Valentine,  Campagne  and  Ballotti  were  sentenced  for  life; 
Anatta  and  Allessandri  received  each  ten  years  while  the  others 
went  scot-free. 

Gallotti,  the  leader  of  the  cut-throat  band,  was  pardoned  out 
in  1885,  leaving  immediately  for  his  native  land,  Italy,  but,  ac- 
cording to  reports,  never  reaching  it,  but  dying  on  his  journey. 
Ballotti,  the  best  one  of  the  lot,  died  in  the  prison  at  Canon, 
December  20,  1887.  Campagne  was  pardoned  out  June  29,  1888, 
and  Valentine,  the  other  life  man,  was  restored  to  liberty  by  Gov. 
Waite  on  August  5,  1895. 


MUSGROVE  AND  HIS  GANG. 
CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  BAD  CHARACTERS  BROUGHT  TO  DENVER  BY  THE  UNION  PACIFIC 
RAILROAD    BUILDING— L.    H.    MUSGROVE    AND    HIS    GANG— ARREST 
•    OF  MUSGROVE— ED.   FRANKLIN  AND   SANFORD   DUGGAN   COME  TO 
HIS  RESCUE— HIGHWAY  ROBBERY  IN   DENVER. 

For  a  few  years  i>revious  to  1868  Denver  was  a  paradise  of 
quiet  and  repose.  The  mining  excitement,  which  had  attracted  so 
many  people  to  this  region  a  few  years  before,  had  subsided  to  a 
great  extent.  The  settlers  were  becoming  accustomed  to  a  resi- 
dence in  this  region.  The  novelty  of  the  life  in  the  Far  West  had 
died  out.  There  were  few  mining  "booms,"  if  any,  and  the  "hard 
cases"  which  invariably  follow  in  the  wake  of  mining  discoveries 
of  importance  had  become  disgusted  with  the  slow  life  in  this  sec- 
tion, and  had  folded  their  tents  and  quietly  departed  for  more  in- 
viting and,  to  them,  more  congenial  fields.  Of  course,  the  good 
people  had  no  fault  with  this  state  of  affairs.  They  went  on  fol- 
lowing their  customary  avocations,  delving  steadily  for  the  prec- 
ious metals,  tilling  the  soil  and  building  up  town  and  country.  In 
a  word,  Denver  seemed,  within  a  remarkably  short  period,  to 
have  settled  down  into  the  perfect  repose,  so  far  as  crime  was 
concerned,  of  the  New  England  village. 

But  with  the  approach  of  railroads  there  came  a  change — a 
radical  and  important  change.  The  building  of  a  new  railroad  in 
any  section  always  introduces  a  large  element  of  irresponsible 
and  vicious  people.  In  the  West  the  percentage  of  this  element 
is  larger  than  in  the  East.  But  as  the  Union  Pacific  was  the 
pioneer  railroad  line  built  across  the  plains,  and  as  the  country 
was  new  and  inviting  to  men  of  adventurous  spirit,  its  construc- 
tion was  probably  accompanied  by  a  greater  number  of  arrivals 
than  that  of  any  other  line  built  since  in  this  region.  There  were 
gamblers  of  all  degrees,  sneak  thieves,  burglars,  highwaymen, 
horse  thieves,  murderers,  fugitives  from  justice  and  amateurs  in 


MUSGROVE  AND  HIS  GANG.  93 

crime.  In  many  places  along  the  line  of  the  road  it  was  "quite 
the  thing"  to  be  a  bad  man,  and  honesty  and  civility  were  at  a 
serious  discount.  Yet  in  places  the  better  element  would  ulti- 
mately gain  the  ascendancy.  In  many  cases  the  contest  was 
close  and  often  there  was  doubt  as  to  whether  the  good  or  the 
bad  would  triumph.  As  a  rule,  however,  respectability  asserted 
itself,  although  frequently  not  until  much  blood  had  been  shed 
and  the  most  heroic  measures  resorted  to  to  rid  the  various  com- 
munities affected  of  these  human  pests.  There  were  vigilance 
committees  at  Cheyenne,  Laramie  City  and  other  places  along  the 
line  of  the  Union  Pacific,  which,  after  months  of  endurance  of  the 
most  terrible  outrages,  took  the  law  into  their  own  hands.  The 
results  were  numerous  warnings  to  offenders  to  leave  these 
places,  and  many  *'neck-tie  parties"  as  well,  at  which  no  ''duly 
elected"  judge  sat  for  days  in  weighing  the  evidence,  but  where 
justice  was  seldom,  as  in  other  courts,  blind.  The  action  of  these 
vigilance  committees  was  so  energetic  and  efficient  that  many  of 
those  of  the  worst  classes  were  compelled  to  get  away  from  the 
railroad  camps,  and  large  numbers  of  them  poured  into  the  Colo- 
rado towns. 

Of  such  were  Sanford  S.  C.  Duggan  and  Edward  Franklin, 
whose  tragic  fate,  as  well  as  that  of  L.  H.  Musgrove,  it  is  the  pu- 
pose  of  this  and  succeeding  chapters  to  treat. 

Musgrove  was  one  of  the  marked  villains  of  the  pioneer  days 
of  Colorado,  and  as  cool  a  character  as  it  was  ever  the  fortune  of 
a  detective  or  criminal  officer  to  fall  in  with.  He  was  a  man  of 
large  stature,  of  shapely  physique,  piercing  eye  and  steady  nerve, 
who  might  have  stood  as  the  original  for  the  heavy  villain  of  the 
best  story  of  a  master  in  romance  literature.  He  was  a  man  of 
daring,  inured  to  danger,  calm  at  the  most  critical  times — a  com- 
mander whose  orders  must  be  obeyed,  who  planned  with  wisdom 
and  who  executed  with  precision  and  dispatch.  He  was  the 
leader  of  an  organized  band  of  horse  thieves,  highwaymen  and 
murderers,  who  infested  the  western  plains,  with  Denver  as  gen- 
eral headquarters,  during  the  years  1867-'68.  They  made  the  rail- 
road towns  a  convenience  in  disposing  of  their  booty,  but  did  not 
spend  time  in  loafing  about  these  places  when  there  was  other 
and  more  profitable  business  to  attend  to  in  other  places.    Mus- 


94  MUSGROVE  AND  HIS  GANG. 

grove  was  a  southern  man  by  birth,  being  a  native  of  Como 
Depot,  Miss.  He  had  gone  to  California  during  the  days 
of  the  gold  excitement  on  the  coast,  and  had  located  in  Napa  val- 
ley. His  sympathies  were  with  the  South  in  the  rebellion,  and 
he  quarreled  with  a  Napa  man  about  the  merits  of  the  conflict, 
which  quarrel  resulted  in  his  coolly  shooting  the  other  party 
down.  He  was  compelled  to  leave  the  place,  and  afterwards 
stopped  in  Nevada,  where  he  killed  two  men  before  being  driven 
from  that  then  territory.  Leaving  Nevada,  he  came  to  Chey- 
enne, and  from  Cheyenne  to  Denver.  He  was  at  first,  after  cross- 
ing the  mountains,  engaged  as  an  Indian  trader  about  old  Fort 
Hallack,  until  a  half-breed  Indian  had  the  temerity,  half  in 
sport,  one  day  to  call  him  a  liar,  when  Musgrove  calmly  pulled 
kis  revolver  from  his  pocket,  and,  taking  deliberate  aim,  planted 
a  bullet  square  in  the  middle  of  the  Indian's  forehead. 

This  transaction  served  to  put  an  end  to  Musgrove's  Indian 
trading,  for  he  was  compelled  to  leave  the  Indian  region  on  very 
short  notice.  After  this  little  affair  he  organized  a  band  of 
horse  thieves,  which  operated  throughout  the  entire  plains  coun- 
try, and  which  was  one  of  the  most  formidable  bands  of  desper- 
adoes known  to  frontier  history.  Musgrove  was  a  perfect  or- 
ganizer. He  had  his  operators  in  Colorado,  Wyoming,  New  Mex- 
ico, Texas,  Nebraska,  Kansas  and  others  of  the  western  states 
and  territories,  and  carried  on  a  regular  business  of  stealing  and 
selling  stock.  They  would  drive  off  entire  droves  of  horses  from 
one  section  and  sell  them  in  another  five  hundred  miles  away, 
and  would  steal  another  drove  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  late 
sale  and  drive  it  for  sale  back  to  the  place  at  which  they  had 
made  the  previous  raid. 

Musgrove's  band  was  broken  up  by  degrees.  As  early  as  the 
spring  of  1868  Gen.  Cook,  accompanied  by  Col.  Egbert  Johnson 
and  one  or  two  others,  tracked  four  of  them  down  after  a  two 
days'  march,  and  captured  them  at  the  point  of  Winchester  rifles 
in  a  cabin  near  the  city.  Col.  Johnson  proved  of  invaluable 
service  in  this  work  in  tracking  the  scamps,  as  he  had  had  much 
experience  in  the  mountains.  In  doing  this  work  he  had  to  even 
wade  through  a  lake  of  water.  Later  he  went  to  Georgetown 
after  another  of  them,  and  capturing  him  there  brought  him  to 


MUSGROVE  AND  HIS  GANG. 


95 


Denver  alone.  They  were  compelled  to  stay  in  a  hotel  at  Idaho 
Springs  all  night,  and  both  slept  in  the  same  room,  Johnson  set- 
ting his  gun  by  the  side  of  his  bed  and  telling  the  desperado  that 
if  he  made  a  move  during  the  entire  night  he  would  blow  his 
brains  out.  The  fellow  was  as  quiet  as  a  mouse,  and  was  afraid 
to  get  up  when  morning  came,  so  thoroughly  was  he  convinced 
that  Johnson  would  put  his  threat  into  execution. 

Musgrove  was  himself  hunted  down  in  Wyoming,  and  cap- 
tured and  brought  to  Denver.  He  was  saucy  to  the  last.  Just 
a  few  days  before  his  capture  he  took  shelter  in  an  invulnerable 
place  on  the  Poudre,  and  sent  a  flag  of  truce  to  the  pursuing 
ofiicer,  telling  him  that  he  could  come  in  and  pick  out  any  stock 
that  he  could  recognize;  that  he  could  have  that  and  no  more. 
Mr.  Haskell,  the  then  United  States  marshal,  was  in  command  of 
the  pursuing  party.  He  accepted  the  conditions  laid  down,  as 
there  was  no  alternative,  and  in  doing  so  found  the.  outlaw  so 
barricaded,  and  his  drove  of  stolen  horses  and  mules  so  securelv 
arranged,  that  he  made  no  effort  to  dislodge  him. 

The  arrest  was  finally  affected  by  a  bit  of  detective  strategy, 
and  the  people  throughout  the  entire  western  country  rejoiced 
when  it  was  announced. 

Among  Musgrove's  outlaws  there  was  none  more  daring  and 
heartless  than  Ed.  Franklin,  who  had  been  with  his  chief  in  many 
close  places  and  who  really  seemed  to  cherish  a  great  fondness 
for  Musgrove.  They  had  in  their  days  of  intimacy  on  the  plains 
sworn  eternal  fidelitv  to  each  other  and  had  taken  a  vow,  with 
others  of  the  party,  to  come  at  all  times  to  the  assistance  of  each 
other  in  times  of  danger.  Hence,  when  Musgrove,  the  chief  of  the 
gang,  found  himself  in  the  clutches  of  the  law  in  Denver,  he  con- 
trived to  notify  his  followers  and  to  ask  their  assistance.  It  was 
a  fact  well  known  at  the  time  to  Gen.  Cook  that  no  less  than 
twenty  of  these  scoundrels  responded  to  the  call,  which  had  been 
sent  over  the  country.  He  was  confident  as  to  their  character 
and  their  mission.  He  knew  that  they  had  come  to  Denver  in- 
tending to  effect  Musgrove's  escajje.  He  was  confident  that  such 
was  their  purpose,  but  he  could,  of  course,  make  no  arrests,  as 
he  would  have  been  without  proofs.  He  could  only  remain  per- 
fectly quiet  and  wait  for  the  desperadoes  to  signalize  their  pres- 


96  MUSGROVE  AND  HIS  GANG. 

ence  in  some  way,  as  lie  well  knew  they  soon  would.  He  was  not 
compelled  to  wait  long  to  have  his  opinion  of  the  men  verified 
and  to  find  occasion  for  making  arrests.  He  was  at  that  time 
not  only  chief  of  the  Ivocky  Mountain  Detective  Association,  but 
also  city  marshal  of  Denver,  and  as  such  was  the  chief  of  the 
police  of  the  city.  It  may  not  be  out  of  place  to  remark  that 
while  Cook  was  marshal,  and  by  virtue  of  this  position  chief  of 
police,  Mr.  Frank  Smith,  who  has  already  been  mentioned  fre- 
quently in  this  book,  was  one  of  his  subordinate  officers.  Smith 
was  one  of  Cook's  most  trusted  men.  The  two  learned  to  ap- 
preciate the  striking  qualities  of  manhood  and  bravery  thus  dis- 
covered in  each  other  in  those  trying  days,  and  became  so  thor- 
oughly attached  to  each  other  that  they  never  separated  as  long^ 
as  Smith  lived,  which  was  until  1881. 

Ed.  Franklin,  to  whom  reference  has  been  made  as  one  of 
Musgrove's  most  trusted  lieutenants,  responded  with  alacrity  to 
the  call  to  come  to  the  rescue  of  his  chief;  and  without  intending^ 
to  forestall  the  story  so  far  as  to  mar  it,  it  may  be  stated  that 
the  expedition  proved  fatally  disastrous  to  him.  Franklin  was 
accompanied  to  Denver  by  Sanford  Duggan.  They  were  both 
bullies  and  desperadoes — not  only  bold  brigandish  boys,  but  that 
and  villains  of  a  lower  order,  men  who  did  not  hesitate  to  stoop  to 
little  meannesses  when  to  do  so  suited  their  purposes.  They 
came  to  Denver  with  records,  and  they  had  been  in  this  city  but 
a  very  short  while  before  they  began  to  look  about  for  an  oppor- 
tunity to  add  to  their  ''laurels." 

It  does  not  appear  that  Duggan  had  ever  been  a  member  of 
Musgrove's  band,  but  he  had  led  a  career  that  would  have  en- 
titled him  to  hold  a  place  of  distinction  in  that  scoundrel's  or- 
ganization, (doming  to  Colorado  in  1861,  from  Fayette  county. 
Pa.,  when  he  was  only  sixteen  years  of  age,  he  had  lived 
for  seven  years  in  the  company  of  low  characters.  At  the 
age  of  eighteen  he  picked  up  a  quarrel  with  a  man  named  Curtis, 
in  Black  Hawk,  and  shot  him  down  in  a  cold-blooded  and  merci- 
less manner.  For  this  offense  he  had  been  imprisoned  for  a  short 
while,  and  then  allowed  to  escape.  Leaving  Black  Hawk  after 
this  experience,  he  came  to  Denver,  where  he  became  the  asso- 
ciate of  a  prostitue,  one  Kitty  Wells,  who  sold  herself  to  obtain 


MUSGROYE  AND  HIS  GANG.  97 

money  for  him  to  live  on.  He  lived  with  her  but  a  short  while, 
when  they  quarreled  one  night  and  he  struck  her  across  the  head 
with  a  pistol,  well  nigh  killing  her.  He  was  then  arrested  by 
Gen.  Cook  while  threatening  to  kill  him.  He  was  jailed,  but 
escaped  justice  in  some  way.  We  next  find  him  in  the  Black 
Hills,  near  Laramie  City,  in  company  with  a  man  named  Al. 
Howard.  Soon  there  is  news  of  another  murder,  and  Duggan 
is  arrested  on  suspicion  and  taken  to  Yankton,  Dakota,  for 
trial,  but  the  proof  is  insufficient  to  establish  his  guilt  and  he  is 
allowed  to  go  to  prey  upon  the  community.  He  returns  to  the 
line  of  the  Union  Pacific  extension  and  to  Laramie  City,  where 
he  for  a  while  acts  as  city  marshal.  Discovering  the  true  char- 
acter of  the  man,  the  good  citizens  compel  him  to  resign — not 
only  force  him  to  resign,  but  give  him  a  set  number  of  hours  in 
which  to  get  out  of  town.  He  takes  the  hint,  and  decides  upon 
coming  to  Denver. 

A  few  days  out  from  Cheyenne  Duggan  falls  in  with  Frank- 
lin, who  has  just  passed  through  an  experience  which  is  worth 
relating,  as  it  goes  to  show  the  character  of  the  man  with  whom 
we  are  soon  to  deal.  He  had  stolen  a  bunch  of  mules  from  Fort 
Saunders,  and  had  succeeded  in  carrying  them  several  miles  to  a 
place  on  the  plains  where  the  soldiers  who  were  pursuing  came 
up  with  him.  There  were  seventeen  of  them  in  the  pursuing 
party.  It  was  no  longer  sensible  for  him  to  continue  his  flight, 
as  he  would,  at  best,  be  completely  overtaken  in  a  few  miles. 
Most  men,  even  desperadoes,  would  have  surrendered  without 
parley  to  such  odds  in  numbers,  but  Franklin's  motto  was:  ''Die, 
but  never  surrender."  He  determined  to  fight.  Dismounting 
from  the  animal  which  he  rode,  he  hastily  scraped  a  pile  of  sand 
up  and  threw  himself  behind  it.  The  soldiers  came  up  and 
Franklin  opened  fire.  They  returned  the  salute,  and  for  over  an 
hour  the  entire  seventeen  poured  their  leaden  balls  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  horse  thief.  He  retaliated  as  fast  as  he  could,  and 
during  the  entire  hour  held  the  whole  party  at  bay.  At  last, 
however,  he  was  struck  in  the  breast  with  a  ball  and  was  com- 
pelled from  weakness  to  cease  shooting.  He  was  taken  at  last, 
nearer  dead  than  alive.  Being  removed  to  Fort  Saunders,  he 
recovered  rapidly,  and  had  no  sooner  regained  his  strength  than 


98  MUSGROVE  AND  HIS  GANG. 

he  made  his  escape.  Once  out  of  prison  he  soon  hears  of  Mus- 
grove's  predicament  and  starts  to  his  chief's  rescue,  where  he 
meets  Duggan,  and  they  journey  on  together.  Of  course,  they 
prove  congenial  spirits. 

They  do  not  ride  boldly  into  Denver,  but  decide  to  stop  near 
the  city  on  Clear  creek,  until  night  shall  come  on  with  its 
friendly  cloak,  for  Uuggan,  it  must  be  remembered,  is  known  to 
Chief  Cook  and  his  police  force. 

The  night,  however,  is  not  far  advanced  when  they  make 
their  appearance  upon  the  streets.  That  the  original  intention 
of  the  men  in  coming  to  Denver  was  to  liberate  Musgrove  could 
not  be  doubted,  but  they  did  not  propose  to  waste  time,  and  hence 
determined  to  earn  a  few  dollars  by  the  simple  "holdup"  process 
in  case  opportunity  should  offer.  Hence  they  sauntered  out 
Blake  street  in  quest  of  game.  The  first  man  they  met  was  Mr. 
James  Torrence,  who  was  compelled  to  stand  and  deliver.  They 
procured  |22  from  him  and  allowed  him  to  pass  on,  soon  after- 
wards meeting  Mr.  Alex.  DeLap,  who  is  now  a  well  known  and 
wealthy  citizen  of  the  state,  who  was  halted,  and  who  would  have 
been  robbed  had  he  not  taken  the  precaution  before  leaving  home 
to  divest  himself  of  his  valuables. 

The  thieves  soon  find  themselves  on  Lawrence  street,  and 
discover  Hon.  Orson  Brooks,  then  a  justice  of  the  peace  and 
police  magistrate  for  Denver,  wending  his  way  homeward.  They 
followed  him  to  a  deserted  place  on  the  street,  about  the  site  of 
the  Markham  house  (the  old  Grand  Central  hotel),  where  he  was 
accosted  by  them  with  a  polite  request  to  hold  up  his  hands. 
Possessing  no  means  of  defense  and  finding  a  pair  of  ugly  re- 
volvers staring  him  in  the  face,  the  judge  was  compelled  to  stand 
and  allow  himself  to  be  robbed  of  |13o.  Judge  Brooks  had  sat 
in  the  trial  of  Duggan  for  the  assault  upon  the  woman  Kittie 
Wells  and  recognized  him  while  the  search  was  in  process.  He 
gave  some  intimation  of  this  fact,  and  the  knowledge  came  near 
costing  him  his  life.  In  response  to  a  sally  from  him  came  the 
cheerful  proposition  from  Duggan  to  Franklin:  ''Let's  plant  the 
d — d  old  snoozer — what  d'ye  say?"  Franklin  was  quite  will- 
ing, and  the  chances  are  that,  had  Judge  Brooks  not  b6en  able 
to  laugh  off  the  matter  as  he  did,  his  body  would  have  been  made 


MUSGROVE  AND  HIS  GANG.  99 

the  sheath  of  a  keen-pointed  and  silent  dagger.  But  he  suc- 
ceeded in  convincing  the  men  that  he  had  been  mistaken  when 
he  supposed  he  recognized  one  of  them,  and  after  treating  him  to 
a  maximum  dose  of  profanity,  they  allowed  him  to  depart. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

FEELING  AROUSED  BY  THE  ROBBERY  OF  JUDGE  BROOKS— PURSUIT  OF 
THE  HIGHWAYMEN,  DUGGAN  AND  FRANKLIN— THE  DETECTIVES 
OBTAIN  A  CLUE— THE  OUTLAWS  OVERTAKEN  IN  GOLDEN— DUG- 
GAN SHOWS  FIGHT  AND  GETS  HIS  FRIEND,  MILES  HILL,  KILLED— 
TERRIBLE  ENCOUNTER  WITH,  AND  TRAGIC  DEATH  OF,  ED. 
FRANKLIN. 

The  robbery  of  Judge  Brooks  was  the  event  which  sealed 
the  fate  of  both  these  desperate  characters,  and  probably  indi- 
rectly also  that  of  Musgrove.  The  event  occurred  on  the  night 
of  Friday,  November  20,  1868.  Judge  Brooks  was  a  prominent 
and  much-esteemed  citizen.  The  whole  town  was  indignant. 
There  were  demands  on  every  hand  to  have  the  highwaymen 
hunted  down.  Denver  had  aroused  from  stupor  to  an  active 
appreciation  of  the  state  of  affairs.  An  outrage  had  been  com- 
mitted, and  justice  must  be  done.  The  guilty  parties  must  be 
found  and  punished.  To  whom  should  this  work  be  entrusted? 
The  public  of  Denver  had  already  learned  to  appreciate  "Dave" 
Cook.  He  was  now  town  marshal,  and  had  already  organized 
his  detective  association.  The  case  was  put  in  his  hands.  He 
had  one  clue.  Judge  Brooks  remembered  that  he  had  on  his 
person  before  he  was  robbed  a  |20  bill,  which  had  been  torn 
and  which  he  had  mended  with  a  piece  of  official  paper  about  his 
office.  Mr.  Cook  naturally  concluded  that  there  were  not  apt 
to  be  two  bills  so  torn  and  so  mended.  Hence  he  went  to  work 
to  find  the  man  who  should  offer  to  spend  this  piece  of  money. 
He  notified  not  only  the  officers  of  Denver,  but  those  of  surround- 
ing towns  as  well. 

The  robberies  had  been  committed  on  Friday.  On  Sunday  a 
messenger  arrived  from  Sheriff  John  Keith,  of  Jefferson  county, 
saying  that  the  men  that  were  wanted  in  Denver  were  to  be  found 
in  Golden.  It  was  stated  that  they  had  gone  to  that  place  on  Sat- 
urday; that  they  had  been  drinking  and  swaggering  about  the 
streets,  loaded  down  with  revolvers  and  defying  all  the  officers  of 


MUSGROVE  AND  HIS  GANG.  IQl 

Christendom.  It  was  supposed  that  they  were  desperadoes,  but 
they  were  not  identified  until  Sunday  morning,  when  the  |20  bill 
was  tendered  to  some  one  by  Duggan.  This  fact  had  no  sooner 
become  known  to  Sheriff  Keith  than  he  dispatched  a  notification 
to  Marshal  Cook.  The  messenger  arrived  late  in  the  afternoon, 
so  that  it  was  dusk  before  the  marshal  and  his  posse  were  off  for 
Golden,  eighteen  miles  distant.  There  was  no  Colorado  Central 
railroad  between  Denver  and  Golden  in  those  days  to  pick  people 
up  in  one  place  and  set  them  down  in  another  within  half  an  hour, 
as  there  now  is.  But  there  was  a  splendid  dirt  road,  and  over  this 
the  horses  flew,  their  hoofs  beating  melodiously  on  the  frozen  soil, 
as  Cook  and  his  men  marched  off  towards  the  foot-hill  metropolis 
in  the  pursuit  of  their  business.  The  pursuing  party  was  com- 
posed of  the  following  named  persons:  D.  J.  Cook,  W.  Frank 
Smith,  D.  W.  Mays,  Eugene  Goff,  H.  B.  Haskell  and  Andy  Allen. 
They  were  all  mounted  well  and  were  armed  very  thoroughly. 

Golden  was  reached  about  9  o'clock  in  the  evening  of  Sun- 
day, November  2.3.  The  party  stopped  in  the  outskirts  of  the  city 
for  a  few  minutes,  until  Keith  could  be  communicated  with.  Be- 
ing found,  he  informed  the  Denver  officers  where  their  men  were 
located.  Franklin,  he  said,  had  been  drinking  heavily  during  the 
day  and  had  retired  to  bed  early  at  the  Overland  house.  Duggan 
was  at  that  moment  at  a  saloon  kept  by  Dan  Hill.  It  was  re- 
solved to  take  Duggan  first,  and  the  officers,  reinforced  by  Keith, 
started  in  the  direction  of  the  saloon  indicated.  ^Yhile  on  their 
way  to  this  point  they  met  two  men,  one  of  whom  said  to  the 
other  as  they  passed:  ''What  do  these  s — s  of  b — s  of  officers 
want?  That's  Dave  Cook,  from  Denver.  I  left  one  of  my  pistols 
at  your  saloon."  This  remark  was  overheard  by  Cook  and  Keith, 
and  the  latter  whispered  to  the  Denver  marshal  the  fact  that  the 
speaker,  of  whom  Cook  had  not  had  a  fair  view,  was  Duggan. 
The  other  man,  he  also  told  Cook,  was  Miles  Hill,  brother  of  the 
proprietor  of  the  saloon.  Immediately  the  two  men  were  seen 
to  turn  and  cross  a  vacant  lot  of  ground  to  the  rear  of  Hill's 
saloon.  The  officers  stopped  for  a  minute  to  arrange  plans;  Cook 
directing  Smith,  with  Keith  and  others  of  the  squad,  to  proceed 
to  the  front  of  the  saloon,  while  he,  with  Goff,  would  go  to  the 
rear.     "In  case  there  should  be  shooting,  boys,  do  not  hit  Miles 


102  MUSGROVE  AND  HIS  GANG. 

Hill,''  said  Sheriff  Keith,  and  taking  up  the  sentence,  Cook  gave 
an  order  to  his  men  to  be  very  careful  not  to  hurt  any  citizen  of 
Golden. 

The  officers  closed  in  upon  the  place  with  the  greatest  celer- 
ity. Smith  and  his  force  found  all  dark  in  front,  but  Cook  and 
Goff  discovered  a  small  and  glaring  light  near  the  door  of  the  sa- 
loon as  they  came  around  the  corner.  It  was  evidently  from  the 
burning  end  of  a  cigar  in  a  man's  mouth.  Soon  the  door  of  the 
saloon  opened,  shedding  a  light  upon  the  man  with  the  cigar  in 
his  mouth  and  revealing  in  him  the  fugitive  Duggan.  A  man 
came  out  at  the  door  and  proved  to  be  Hill.  The  friends  of  Hill 
assert  that  he  only  brought  Duggan's  pistol  to  him,  but  the  offi- 
cers say,  be  that  as  it  may,  he  seemed  to  present  the  pistol  at  them, 
intentionally  or  accidentally,  at  which  time  Duggan  fired  on  Cook 
and  Goff,  the  ball  flying  by  them  and  nipping  a  bit  out  of  the 
blue  soldier  overcoat  which  Cook  wore.  Notwithstand  the  of- 
ficers carried  cocked  revolvers  in  their  hands  and  were  fearful 
that  they  would  have  trouble,  they  were  considerably  surprised. 
It  was  a  moment  before  they  collected  themselves,  and  before 
they  were  entirely  at  themselves  another  ball  came  whizzing  by 
them  in  dangerous  proximity  to  their  vitals.  They  were  not  more 
than  ten  feet  from  the  men  who  held  pistols  in  their  hands.  There 
was  no  time  to  hesitate  or  parley.  A  moment's  delay  might  mean 
death  to  both  of  them.  With  that  calm  and  commanding  way, 
that  cool  and  deliberate  manner  which  has  ever  characterized 
Dave  Cook  in  time  of  danger  and  placed  him  above  other  men, 
he  raised  his  pistol  with  his  left  hand — he  always  holds  his  pis- 
tol in  his  left  hand  when  he  shoots — and  taking  aim,  fired,  tell- 
ing Goff  also  to  fire.  One  man  fell  to  the  ground,  and  the  other 
started  away  on  a  full  run,  firing  a  parting  salute  as  he  left.  The 
flash  of  the  pistol  revealed  the  fact  that  Duggan  was  the  ma« 
who  was  making  an  effort  to  escape,  and  he  was  pursued  by  some 
of  the  members  of  the  party.  However,  the  man  jumped  a  fence, 
and  by  so  doing  found  a  hiding  place  in  a  dense  undergrowth,  so 
that  extensive  pursuit  of  him  that  evening  could  not  be  otherwise 
than  unavailing. 

When  the  officers  returned  they  found  that  the  man  who  had 
been  shot  was  Miles  Hill.    The  ball  had  entered  his  left  side  and 


MUSGROVE  AND  HIS  GANG.  ;[Q5 

ranged  downward  through  the  abdomen  and  lodged  in  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  man's  body.  It  was  evident  that  he  could  not  live. 
He  was  found  lying  in  the  street  with  a  cocked  revolver  near  him. 
He  demanded  plaintively  to  know  why  he  had  been  shot,  and 
when  told  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  apparently  recognized 
the  justice  of  his  fate. 

Hill  seems  to  have  been  a  thoroughly  good  fellow,  and  his 
kindness  of  disposition  probably  led  him  to  the  point  of  helping 
Duggan  out  of  a  bad  scrape.  What  representation  he  had  made 
to  Hill  was  not  revealed  by  him,  and  will  now,  of  course,  never  be 
known.  But  that  Hill  was  influenced  to  aid  the  disreputable  man 
into  whose  company  he  had  been  so  unfortunate  as  to  fall  can 
hardly  be  doubted.  He  died  about  twelve  hours  after  the  shoot- 
ing, and  was  sincerely  mourned  by  the  citizens  of  Golden,  who 
permitted  their  friendly  feeling  for  and  acquaintance  with  the 
social  qualities  of  the  man,  for  the  time,  to  influence  their  judg- 
ment of  the  killing,  and,  what  a  few  days  afterwards  was  recog- 
nized as  a  necessary  precaution  by  the  officers  in  the  protection 
of  their  own  lives  and  in  the  discharge  of  their  duty  in  attempt- 
ing to  arrest  Duggan,  was  at  first  criticised  as  ''haste  and  negli- 
gence." Cook  and  Goff  either  had  to  kill  or  be  killed.  They  pre- 
ferred the  former  alternative,  repulsive  as  it  was  to  them. 

But  there  was  then  little  time  to  linger  over  the  man  whose 
life  blood  was  oozing  gradually  out  as  a  consequence  of  his  at- 
tempt to  defend  a  criminal  from  arrest.  There  was  other  work 
than  indulging  in  vain  regrets  to  be  accomplished.  Duggan  had 
escaped,  but  Franklin  was  still  in  town,  and  his  whereabouts  were 
knowm.  He  must  be  captured  at  all  hazards.  To  allow  him  to 
escape  was  not  a  part  of  the  programme  of  the  officers.  They 
had  been  notified  by  Sheriff  Keith  that  Franklin  had  taken  a 
room  at  the  Overland  house,  then  standing  where  it  now  does, 
and  thitherward  they  wended  their  way,  fully  armed,  and 
equipped  with  a  strong  pair  of  handcuffs  with  which  they  pro- 
posed to  secure  Franklin,  and  thus  render  his  return  to  Denver 
quite  beyond  question  when  once  he  should  be  in  their  power. 

Mr.  Cook's  associates  in  making  this  arrest  were  Frank 
Smith  and  Mr.  Keith,  they  volunteering  from  the  entire  company 
to  go  with  him.    The  hotel  proprietor  did  not  hesitate  to  inform 


IQQ  MUSGROVE  AND  HIS  GANG. 

the  officers  where  Franklin  was  to  be  found,  and  they  were  soon 
in  his  room  after  starting  in  the  search.  They  did  not  seek  ad- 
mission by  knocking  at  the  door,  which  was  found  unlocked. 
Although  soaked  with  liquor  when  he  retired,  Franklin  had  left 
everything  in  perfect  order  for  his  defense  in  case  he  should  be 
set  upon  suddenly,  showing  himself  to  be  a  criminal  who  was 
used  to  being  hunted,  and  who  never  forgot  his  caution  even 
when  apparently  ''too  far  gone  to  know  anything."  His  empty 
pistol  scabbard  hung  on  the  bed-i)ost,  while  underneath  his  pil- 
low lay  a  large  revolver,  loaded,  cocked  and  ready  for  use  at  a 
moment's  warning.  The  officers  stole  in  with  quiet  tread,  Cook 
leading  the  van,  with  his  fingers  on  his  lips,  and  the  others  fol- 
lowing as  noiselessly  as  if  treading  upon  velvet,  although  the 
floor  was  bare.  Mr.  Keith  carried  a  candle,  and  as  he  came  up  to 
the  bed  with  it,  so  that  the  light  fell  upon  Franklin's  eyes,  he 
turned  over  with  a  groan.  He  lay  stretched  at  full  length — a 
man  of  brawny  muscle  and  splendidly  developed  physique.  His 
breast  being  partially  bared,  revealed  the  gunshot  wound  which 
was  the  memento  he  carried  of  his  late  exploit  in  standing  off 
seventeen  of  Uncle  Sam's  soldiers  near  P^ort  Saunders,  and  which 
had  yet  scarcely  thoroughly  healed.  As  he  turned  in  the  bed  his 
eyes  opened.  At  that  moment  Mr.  Cook  laid  a  heavy  hand  upon 
the  arm  of  the  man,  saying : 

"Franklin,  we  want  you." 

The  fellow  was  awake  in  a  moment. 

"The  hell  you  do!"  he  exclaimed,  showing  that  he  took  in  the 
situation  at  a  glance. 

"Yes,  come  on  quietly." 

"Quietlj',  be  d — d!  Where's  my  gun?  No  d — d  officer  from 
Denver  can  arrest  me.  I'm  not  that  sort  of  stuff.  You  can  make 
up  your  mind  to  that." 

By  this  time  he  was  fully  aroused.  He  was  standing  on  his 
knees,  his  eyes  flashing  fire,  and  striking  sledge-hammer  blows  at 
any  of  the  officers  who  attempted  to  \aj  hands  upon  him.  He 
would  listen  to  no  entreaty,  but  answered  all  appeals  with  de- 
rision. At  last  Mr.  Cook  produced  the  handcuffs,  and  made  a 
move  towards  Franklin  with  them, 

"Oh,  it's  irons  you  have,  is  it?"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  lunged 


MUSGROVE  AND  HIS  GANG.  109 

at  the  party.    "If  that's  what  you're  up  to,  I  have  some  myself." 

And  with  this  speech  he  turned  to  his  pillow  in  the  act  of 
pulling  his  revolver  from  its  hiding-place. 

At  that  moment  one  of  Cook's  assistants,  considering  that 
Franklin  was  preparing  to  shoot,  struck  him  on  the  head  and 
knocked  him  to  the  other  side  of  the  bed.  He  was  up  in  a  minute 
and  more  furious  than  ever.  He  had  well-nigh  torn  his  under- 
clothes from  his  body,  and  the  blood  was  running  frona  the  fresh 
wound  in  his  head.  He  was  furious  with  rage,  and  snorted  and 
roared  and  tore  about  like  a  wild  animal  brought  to  bay,  ex- 
claiming, "Come  on,  all  of  you!"  as  he  rose  to  his  feet.  "I  sup- 
pose you  can  kill  me,  but  you  can  not  arrest  me.  I  will  not  go 
with  you.  If  you  want  to  shoot,  put  it  there— there!"  And  he 
slapped  his  hand  violently  two  or  three  times  upon  his  heart. 
The  scene  was  extremely  tragic. 

Up  to  this  time  no  one  had  intended  to  shoot,  and  Franklin 
was  told  so.  "Damn  you,  if  you  don't  shoot,  I  will,"  he  ex- 
claimed again.  "I  will  fight  your  whole  gang,  if  you  will  give 
me  a  fair  show.  I  won't  be  arrested,  I  won't  go;  I'll  die  first — but 
I'll  die  hard.  One  or  two  of  you  will  go  with  me  if  I  go.  Ed. 
Franklin  does  not  sell  out  for  a  song."  At  this  he  made  a  lunge 
for  a  cocked  revolver  which  Cook  had  laid  on  a  table  near  by. 
But  the  keen-ej^ed  officers  were  too  quick  for  him.  They  had  de- 
tected the  purpose  of  the  move  and  were  ready.  They  did  not 
propose  to  stand  up  to  allow  another  professional  murderer  and 
desperado  to  shoot  at  them.  They  were  not  betting  blood  on 
even  terms  with  outlaws.  Cook  caught  his  pistol  with  his  left 
hand,  and  even  while  Franklin  was  fighting  his  way  to  it  like  a 
mad  man,  sent  a  ball  whizzing  through  his  very  heart.  Smith's 
firing  followed  so  soon  as  to  cause  what  seemed  little  different 
from  one  report.  With  hardly  a  groan  Franklin  tumbled  over 
on  the  blood-stained  bed,  a  dead  and  harmless  man.  He  had 
sowed  the  wild  oats  of  a  reckless  and  useless  life,  and  he  had 
reaped  the  full  harvest. 

So  ended  the  last  of  the  tragedies  of  Golden's  night  of  hor- 
rors, November  22,  1868. 

Of  course  the  entire  town  had  been  aroused  by  this  time.     It 
was  getting  well  along  in  the  night,  yet  no  one  seemed  to  have 


IIQ  MUSGROVE  AND  HIS  GANG. 

retired.  On  the  contrary,  everybody  appeared  to  be  upon  the 
streets.  Hardly  any  one  understood  the  cause  of  the  trouble  or 
the  crimes  that  had  been  committed.  There  were  reports  that  a 
dozen  men  had  been  killed,  and  that  a  mob  had  taken  posses- 
sion of  the  town.  The  people  flew  here  and  there  like  mad.  It 
was,  indeed,  a  wild  Sabbath  night  for  Golden — ordinarily  then, 
as  now,  a  very  quiet  and  orderly  town. 

Coroner's  investigations  of  both  killings,  those  of  Miles  Hill 
and  Ed.  Franklin,  were  ordered,  and  inquests  were  held.  It 
was  found  that  a  ball  had  struck  Hill  in  the  left  arm,  entering  his 
left  side  and  passing  through  his  abdomen,  while  two  bullets 
had  entered  Franklin's  breast,  hardly  an  inch  apart,  and  both 
passing  through  the  beart.  In  the  case  of  Hill,  local  prejudice 
was  allowed  to  control  the  deliberations  of  the  coroner's  jury, 
the  members  of  which  were  not  in  possession  of  all  the  facts  in 
the  case,  and  in  the  verdict  the  ofQcers — who,  the  reader  will 
bear  in  mind,  were  only  returning  the  fire  of  Duggan — were 
slightly  censured  for  "carelessness  in  the  discharge  of  their 
duty."  The  verdict  was  signed  by  George  B.  Allen,  W.  M.  B. 
Sarell,  J.  M.  Johnson,  Jr.,  Arthur  C.  Harris,  P.  B.  Cheney  and 
J.  Pipe,  either  one  of  whom  would  doubtless,  under  the  same 
circumstances,  have  acted  just  as  the  officers  did — if  they  had 
not  depended  upon  their  heels  instead  of  their  pistols  for  pro- 
tection. 

The  verdict  in  the  case  of  Franklin  stood  as  follows: 
Territory  of  Colorado,  County  of  Jefferson,  ss: 

An  inquest,  holden  in  Golden  City,  Jefferson  county,  Colo- 
rado territory,  on  the  22d  day  of  November,  A.  D.  1868,  before 
J.  B.  Cass,  a  justice  of  the  peace,  upon  the  dead  body  of  Ed. 
Franklin,  alias  Charles  Myers,  lying  at  the  Overland  house,  in 
Golden  City,  Colorado  territory,  dead,  by  the  jurors  whose 
names  are  hereto  subscribed.  The  said  jurors,  upon  their  oaths, 
do  say  that  the  said  Ed.  Franklin,  alias  Charles  Myers,  came  to 
his  death  by  the  shots  of  pistols  in  the  hands  of  D.  el.  Cook  and 
Wm.  F.  Smith,  officers,  who  were  trying  to  arrest  him;  and  that 
the  deceased  was  shot  because  he  refused  to  be  arrested,  and 
the  officers  shot  him  in  the  discharge  of  their  duty,  on  the  even- 
ing of  the  22d  of  November,  1868. 


MUSGROVE  AND  HIS  GANG.  HI 

D.   C.   CRAWFORD. 

H.  M.  HOWELL. 

JAMES  GOTT. 

JOSEPH  CASTO. 

H.  R.  KING. 

WM.  MARTIN. 
Thus  ended  this  series  of  tragedies,  so  far  as  Golden  was  in- 
volved. The  officers,  before  returning  to  Denver,  scoured  the 
town  of  Golden  and  the  surrounding  country  in  search  of  Dug- 
gan,  but  failed  to  find  him.  Indeed,  they  soon  became  convinced 
that  he  had  lost  no  time  in  leaving  the  place,  and  as  there  were 
then  few  residences  either  in  the  mountains  or  on  the  plains, 
there  was  little  hope  of  overtaking  him  if  pursuit  should  be  de- 
cided upon.  Consequently  Gen.  Cook  decided  to  return  to  Den- 
ver with  his  men,  and  to  send  out  information  in  all  directions  to 
his  assistants  of  the  detective  association  concerning  the  escape 
of  the  desperado,  paying  |50  to  the  landlord  of  the  Overland 
house  before  leaving  for  damages  done  to  the  bed  in  which 
Franklin  lay.  The  man  who  shared  Franklin's  bed  was  found  to 
be  a  deserter  from  the  army  and  was  turned  over  to  the  military 
authorities. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

LYNCHING  OF  MUSGROVE  BY  THE  DENVER  POPULACE— AN  ILLEGAL 
HANGING  IN  BROAD  DAYLIGHT  BY  MEN  ENTIRELY  UNDISGUISED— 
THE  DESPERADO  MEETS  THEM  BRAVELY,  BUT  IS  OVERCOME  AT 
LAST  AND  DIES  GAME-HE  WRITES  A  PAIR  OF  PARTING  LETTERS, 
AND  SMOKES  A  CIGARETTE  WHILE  THE  HANGMAN'S  ROPE  IS 
BEING  ADJUSTED. 

The  night  was  well  advanced  when  the  officers,  who  had 
gone  to  Golden,  returned  to  Denver.  Indeed,  the  morning  was 
coming  on,  so  that  they  were  late  in  reaching  their  homes.  Being 
well  worn  with  the  night's  excitement  and  fatigue,  thej  slept 
late  on  Monda}^  morning.  When  they  came  out  they  found  Den- 
ver in  a  state  of  general  excitement.  The  story  of  the  resistance 
which  the  officers  had  met  with  from  the  desperadoes  in  attempt- 
ing to  make  the  arrests  in  Golden  had  been  generally  circulated. 
The  people  were  just  then  beginning  to  appreciate  for  the  first 
time  the  real  character  of  the  outlaws  who  had  so  recently  been 
in  their  midst.  They  had  never  before  dreamed  that  these  high- 
waymen would  be  guilty  of  outright  murder.  Their  eyes  were 
opened  for  the  first  time.  Evidence  had  accumulated  of  Frank- 
lin's having  been  a  partner  of  Musgrove.  Even  after  the  bold 
robberies  of  the  preceding  Friday  night,  Franklin  had  had  the 
assurance  to  go  to  the  jail  where  Musgrove  was  confined  and  ask 
for  a  conference  with  that  individual.  After  this  interview  Mus- 
grove made  general  announcement  of  the  fact  that  his  escape  was 
planned  for  an  early  day,  on  such  a  perfect  scale  that  it  would 
not  be  within  the  power  of  the  authorities  to  prevent  it.  It  was 
also  generally  understood  that  there  were  many  other  desper- 
adoes in  the  city,  who,  it  was  believed,  had  come  to  Denver  for 
the  purpose  of  assisting  Musgrove  to  throw  off  his  prison 
shackles.  At  any  rate,  the  town  was  known  to  be  full  of  bad 
characters,  and  the  number  was  increasing  every  day.  It  was 
generally  agreed  that  something  must  be  done  to  teach  these 
ruffians  that  Denver  was  no  place  for  them.    The  laws  were  im- 


MUSGROVE  AND  HIS  GANG.  213 

perfect;  it  was  difficult  to  convict  witnesses,  and  the  prisons  were 
mere  pens,  out  of  which  criminals  could  escape  with  small  effort. 
There  was  but  little  for  them  to  fear  from  the  due  process  of  law. 
Some  more  speedy  remedy  for  the  evil  existing  was  needed.  The 
community  was  sick  and  must  be  cured.  A  limb  had  been  frac- 
tured, and  amputation  was  necessary.  Heroic  remedies  were 
demanded. 

So  the  people  were  beginning  to  talk  about  noon  of  Monday, 
November  23.  Some  one  suggested  that  the  proper  and  salutary 
thing  to  do  would  be  to  hang  Musgrove.  The  idea  was  wildfire  in 
a  dry  prairie.  It  passed  from  one  to  another,  and  all  the  good 
people  declared  that  Musgrove  should  be  hanged  by  the  people  in 
the  interest  of  the  people — without  technical  warrant  of  law,  but 
for  the  same  purpose  as  that  for  which  legal  executions  are  in- 
tended, namely,  to  punish  crime  and  to  furnish  a  warning  to  evil- 
doers wherever  found.  On  general  principles  Musgrove  deserved 
hanging.  The  West  is  a  region  which  believes  in  giving  every 
man  his  deserts.  So  Musgrove  must  hang.  This  was  the  ver- 
dict of  the  town. 

Up  to  3  o'clock  there  had  been  no  organized  meeting,  not- 
withstanding the  talk  of  lynching  had  been  general,  and  almost 
everybody  had  come  to  understand  that  a  tragedy  of  this  kind 
might  be  expected  at  any  moment.  By  3  the  people  began  to 
gather  on  Larimer  street.  A  few  minutes  later  found  them 
marching  by  the  score,  as  if  by  common  consent,  towards  the 
county  jail,  in  which  Musgrove  was  confined.  There  were  hun- 
dreds in  the  procession  when  the  prison  was  reached.  There 
was  no  general  expression  to  denote  the  intention  of  the  mob, 
but  all  understood  its  purpose.  There  were  no  masks  worn  or 
disguises  adopted.  It  was  broad  daylight.  The  best  men  in  the 
town  were  in  that  procession — lawyers,  doctors,  and  probably 
ministers,  business  and  professional  men.  No  officer  dared  stand 
in  the  way  of  that  gathering.  It  was  the  people  about  to  do  the 
people's  will. 

Arrived  in  front  of  the  jail  a  halt  was  called.  Some  one 
mounted  an  elevation.  There  was  no  disorder.  'The  question 
before  you,"  rang  out  the  voice  of  the  speaker,  ''is,  shall  Mus- 
grove be  taken  out  of  jail?" 


114  MUSGROVE  AND  HIS  GANG. 

There  was  a  unanimous  "Yes!" 

"The  next  question  is,  shall  he  be  hanged  when  taken  out?" 

The  same  unbroken  "Yes"  was  the  response. 

There  were  none  to  object. 

The  jail  was  promptly  entered.  No  obstacles  were  thrown  in 
the  way  by  the  officials.  Musgrove  had  himself  been  an  auditor 
of  the  proceedings  which  had  just  been  conducted  on  the  outside 
of  his  prison  house.  But  he  had  not  been  dumbfounded  by  the 
revelations  made  to  him  of  his  approaching  fate.  He  met  the 
mob  with  a  bold  face.  "Come  on!"  he  exclaimed,  defiantly,  "I 
am  ready  for  you." 

He  was  found  to  be  armed  with  a  heavy  pine  knot  with 
which  some  one  had  provided  him.  This  he  hurled  defiantly 
in  the  air.  None  cared  to  approach  him  while  he  held  this 
formidable  weapen.  Hence  the  stratagem  of  firing  two  or  three 
shots  over  his  head  was  resorted  to.  This  policy  brought  the 
desperado  to  terms.  Musgrove  agreed  to  surrender  peaceably 
on  condition  that  he  be  not  shot  down.  He  was  consequently 
taken  out  of  jail. 

Once  on  the  street  the  procession  made  towards  the  Larimer 
street  bridge  across  Cherry  creek.  Musgrove  was  fairly  pushed 
forward  by  the  pressure  from  the  crowd  which  followed  be- 
hind. He  walked  onward  in  a  sullen  and  uncommunicative 
mood,  glancing  to  one  side  and  then  the  other  as  if  looking 
for  assistance.  But  none  came.  When  he  reached  the  bridge 
he  apparently  lost  all  hope.  He  never  once  asked  for  mercy  or 
made  a  single  plea  for  his  life. 

"If  you  are  bent  upon  murdering  me,"  he  said  at  last,  "you 
will  at  least  be  men  enough  to  permit  me  to  write  to  my  friends 
and  tell  them  the  shameful  story  of  -your  conduct  towards  me." 
No  one  objected,  and  when  the  middle  of  the  bridge  was  reached 
a  halt  was  called  and  Musgrove  was  furnished  with  paper  and 
pencil.  Bending  over  the  railing  of  the  bridge  he  scratched 
off  two  brief  notes,  one  to  a  brother  and  the  other  to  his  wife, 
the  first  being  directed  to  Como  Depot,  Miss.,  and  the  second 
to  Cheyenne.  The  poor  criminal  grasped  the  pencil  with  firm- 
ness and  apparently  wrote  without  a  tremor,  notwithstanding 
he  was  closely  surrounded  by  armed  men  who  were  soon  to  be 


Lynching  of  Musgrove. 


MUSGROVE  AND  HIS  GANG.  H'J 


• 


his  executioners.  He  was  an  illiterate  man,  and  wrote  and 
spelled  badly.  Fortunately  Gen.  Cook  preserved  verbatim  copies 
of  the  letters,  which  were  as  follows: 

Denver  November   23d,   1868 
Mv  Dear  Brother 

I  am  to  be  hung  to-day  on  false  charges  by  a  mob 
my  children  is  in  Xapa  Valley  Cal — will  you  go  and  get  them 
&  take  caree  of  them  for  me  godd  Knows  that  I  am  innocent 
pray  for  me  but  I  was  here  when  the  mob  took  me.  Brother 
good  by  for  Ever  take  care  of  my  pore  little  children  I  remain 
your  unfortunate  Brother 

good  by 

L.  H.  MUSGROVE. 
Denver  C.  T. 
My  Dear  Wife — Before  this  reaches  you  I  will  be  no  more 
Mary  I  am  as  you  know  innocent  of  the  charges  made  against 
me  I  do  not  know  what  they  are  agoing  to  hang  me  for  unless 
it  is  because  I  am  acquainted  witji  Ed  Franklin — godd  will  pro- 
tect you  I  hope  Good  by  for  ever  as  ever  yours  sell  what  I  have 
and  keep  it.  L.  H.  MUSGROVE. 

While  he  was  still  writing,  some  of  the  men  had  tied  Mus- 
grove's  legs  together,  and  a  wagon  was  procured,  which  he  was 
told  to  mount.  Placing  his  hands  upon  the  seat  in  front,  he 
sprang  into  the  vehicle  as  nimbly  as  a  cat,  and  the  driver,  who 
was  George  Hopkins  of  the  present  police  force,  was  ordered 
to  proceed.  The  procession  then  took  its  way  to  the  west  end 
of  the  bridge,  reaching  which,  it  passed  down  the  bank  of  the 
creek  to  the  dry  and  sandy  bed  of  the  stream,  returning  to  a 
place  under  the  middle  span,  whence  a  hangman's  rope  dangled, 
with  the  noose  already  prepared  for  service.  Driving  up  under 
this  cord,  Musgrove  was  told  that  he  could  have  an  opportunity 
to  make  whatever  preparation  he  should  see  proper  for  the 
end  which  was  approaching. 

His  only  reply  was:    "Go  on  with  your  work." 

He  was  ordered  to  stand  up,  and  mounted  the  seat  of  the 

wagon,  surveying  the  crowd  with  his  usual  sullen  and  calm  face. 

The  rope  was  being  tied  about  his  neck,  when  Capt.  Scudder, 

then  a  well  known  and  respected  citizen,  standing  on  the  bridge 


IIQ  MUSGROVE  AND  HIS  GANG. 


• 


above,  began  to  address  the  crowd  upon  the  illegality  of  the 
proceedings.  Musgrove's  countenance  did  not  change.  He 
coolly  took  a  piece  of  paper  from  one  vest  pocket,  and  fumbled 
in  the  other  vest  pocket  for  some  tobacco  crumbs,  which  he 
took  out,  rolled  in  the  paper,  made  a  cigarette,  turned  the  ends 
with  care,  placed  it  in  his  mouth,  requested  a  match  from  the 
driver,  struck  it,  lighted  his  cigarette  and  smoked  it  with  as 
much  composure  as  a  Mexican  ranchero  sitting  in  his  plaza  on 
a  summer  evening,  while  Capt.  Scudder  continued  his  harangue. 

This  talk  was  not  heeded.  The  crowd  began  to  jeer,  and 
to  cry:  "Drive  on!"  Some  one  hallooed  to  Musgrove  and  in- 
quired:   "Where  are  the  rest  of  your  gang?" 

"I  am  sure  I  don't  know,"  came  the  reply,  "unless  you  are 
one  of  them." 

Those  were  among  the  man's  last  words.  His  hat  was  pulled 
down  over  his  eyes.  Musgrove  threw  his  cigarette  from  his 
mouth,  and  feeling  the  wagon  starting,  stooped  and  sprang  into 
the  air. 

The  wagon  was  moving  but  slowly  from  under  the  man  and 
he  came  down  on  the  floor  of  the  wagon  bed.  With  an  expres- 
sion of  great  disappointment  and  disgust  he  made  another  de- 
termined leap  which  should  almost,  beyond  peradventure,  land 
him  in  the  great  beyond.  The  wagon  had  moved  out  this  time^ 
and  Musgrove  threw  his  entire  weight  upon  the  rope.  His  neck 
was  broken  by  the  fall,  and  death  ensued  instantly.  There  were 
a  few  shrugs  of  the  shoulder  and  all  was  over.  The  hat  which 
had  played  the  part  of  a  hangman's  cap  was  removed  before 
the  crowd  dispersed  and  the  countenance  was  found  to  have 
changed  but  little.  It  was  still  sullen  and  devoid  of  any  ex- 
pression of  fear.  Musgrove  had  died  as  he  had  lived — coldly 
defiant  of  the  world. 

Referring  to  the  matter  at  the  time  a  local  print  said:  "The 
people  who  assembled  were  good  men,  if  we  have  any  good 
men  in  the  city.  They  were  quiet  and  orderly,  no  shouting,  no 
commotion — waiting  to  see  the  law  executed  upon  one  who  had 
outraged  them.  They  comprised  a  large  part  of  the  men  of 
the  city,  and  were  not  a  crowd  or  a  mob,  but  an  assemblage 
of  the  people." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  LAST  OF  THE  MUSGROVE  GANG— DUGGAN  CAPTURED  NEAR 
CHEYENNE  AND  RETURNED  TO  DENVER— HOW  GEN.  COOK  OUT- 
WITTED THE  MOB— DUGGAN  IS  TAKEN  FROM  THE  SHERIFF  AND 
EXPIATES  HIS  CRIME  FROM  A  COTTONWOOD  LIMB— DYING  THE 
DEATH   OF  A  COWARD. 

Duggan,  it  will  be  remembered,  had  escaped  from  the  offi- 
cers at  Golden,  but  he  was  not  allowed  to  get  away.  The  de- 
scriptions which  Gen.  Cook  had  sent  out  had  been  received  at 
Fort  Russell,  near  Cheyenne,  and  the  agents  of  the  Rocky  Mount- 
ain Detective  Association  at  that  point  were  on  the  lookout  for 
him.  They  did  not  wait  long.  He  was  picked  up  in  company 
with  a  deserter,  riding  a  stolen  horse  near  Natural  Fort,  six- 
teen miles  from  Cheyenne,  making  his  way  eastward. 

Chief  Cook  hearing  of  the  arrest  of  Duggan,  had  himself 
gone  to  Cheyenne  after  the  fugitive.  He  was  satisfied  from 
what  he  knew  of  the  awakened  spirit  of  the  people  of  Denver 
that  if  they  should  get  an  opportunity  they  would  lynch  Duggan, 
but  he  was  determined  that  such  a  fate  should  not  befall  the 
man  while  in  his  custod3^  In  fact,  it  may  be  mentioned  now, 
that  Gen.  Cook  has  ever  made  it  a  point  to  see  that  no  prisoner 
should  be  taken  from  his  hands  by  a  mob,  and  none  has  ever 
been.  He  knew  that  he  would  be  expected  to  get  in  at  a  cer- 
tain time,  and  thought  it  more  than  probable  that  a  mob  would 
be  organized  by  that  time,  for  the  purpose  of  taking  Duggan 
from  the  officers  and  hanging  him.  To  avert  this  fate  Cook 
had  caused  the  stage  driver  to  double  his  speed  and  to  come 
into  Denver  twelve  hours  ahead  of  time.  It  was  fortunate  that 
this  precaution  had  been  taken,  for  the  people  had  already  de- 
cided to  make  another  example  of  Duggan  by  hanging  him.  They 
were  terribly  excited,  and  the  watchword  of  the  town  was  "Let 
no  villain  escape."  Duggan  must  follow  in  the  footsteps  of 
Musgrove. 

But  Cook  took  the  town  by  surprise  in  his  early  arrival 


120 


MUSGROVE  AND  HIS  GANG. 


with  the  culprit.  The}-  were  not  organized  or  ready  to  make  a 
fight  for  the  man,  as  thej  had  determined  that  they  would  be  by 
the  regular  stage  arrival  time.  However,  the  approach  of  the 
coach  was  discovered,  as  the  Carr  house  on  Fifteenth  street 
was  passed,  by  some  one  who  cried  out:  ''Here,  boys,  come; 
here's  Cook  with  Duggan;  let's  take  him!"  There  was  a  rush 
from  the  hotel,  but  Gen.  Cook  ordered  the  driver  to  travel  for 
his  life.  The  horses  were  whipped  into  a  dead  run,  which  was 
kept  up  until  the  Larimer  street  prison  was  gained.  Notwith- 
standing this  great  haste  a  mob  of  500  people  had  gathered  at 
the  jail  when  it  was  reached  and  the  driver  had  almost  to  plow 
through  it  with  his  team.  The  door  was  reached  at  last,  how- 
ever, and  the  prisoner,  trembling  like  a  leaf  in  a  breeze,  was 
pushed  into  the  jail  and  turned  over  to  the  county  authorities. 

But  that  Duggan's  life  was  not  safe  even  now,  all  under- 
stood perfectly.  It  was  generally  believed  that  he  would  be 
lynched.  The  impression  had  gotten  out  that  the  jail  would  be 
assailed  some  time  during  the  afternoon,  and  the  prisoner  taken 
therefrom  and  executed,  and  in  consequence  of  the  rumor,  about 
4  o'clock  a  crowd  of  men,  women  and  children  lined  the  side- 
walk along  both  sides  of  Larimer  street  from  Fifteenth  street, 
even  on  to  the  bridge,  which  was  occupied  by  children  principally. 
They  held  their  position  until  nearly  or  quite  dark,  when  think- 
ing that  the  expected  exhibition  had  been  indefinitely  postponed, 
they  retired  to  their  homes.  They  were  mistaken  in  their  sur- 
mises, as  it  appears. 

It  became  known  in  some  way  that  Duggan  would  be  re- 
moved from  the  Larimer  street  prison  to  the  city  jail  on  Front 
street  some  time  during  the  evening,  and  the  mob  had  con- 
cluded to  improve  the  occasion  by  taking  him  from  the  oflflcers 
and  executing  him.  About  6  o'clock  he  was  taken  in  an  express 
wagon  for  the  purpose  of  the  proposed  transfer.  As  the  wagon 
left  the  west  end  of  the  bridge  a  whistle  was  sounded  and  im- 
mediately answered  from  the  direction  of  the  calaboose.  Soon 
after  the  wagon  crossed  the  bridge  it  was  surrounded  by  ninety 
or  a  hundred  armed  men,  who  demanded  a  halt,  and  the  sur- 
render of  the  prisoner,  and  he  was  turned  over  to  them  with- 
out a  struggle.     Having  him  in  possession  they  retraced  their 


Lynching  of  Duggan  in  Denver—Fight  of  Photographers  for  View  of  Remains. 


MUSGROVE  AND  HIS  GANG.  123 

steps  and  turned  west,  to  what  was  then  Cherry  street,  to  a 
point  on  that  street  where  there  stood  two  or  three  Cottonwood 
trees,  and  under  one  of  which  the  procession  halted.  The  express 
wagon,  which  had  been  taken  possession  of,  was  brought  to 
the  front,  and  placed  directly  under  a  limb  of  the  tree.  In  a 
moment  a  rope  was  thrown  over  the  limb,  and  in  another  moment 
Duggan  was  standing  in  the  wagon  immediately  under  the  fatal 
noose.  Some  one  then  told  him  if  he  had  any  remarks  to  make, 
to  make  them,  ^r  his  time  among  the  living  was  short.  He 
commenced  by  asking  them  to  send  for  a  Catholic  priest.  "I 
killed  a  man  in  the  mountains,  but  it  was  in  self-defense,"  he 
said:  ''I  did  not  kill  the  man  in  the  Black  Hills;  'twas  another 
fellow  that  did  it."  To  the  question  about  having  assisted  in  gar- 
roting  Squire  Brooks,  he  first  said,  "I  didn't  do  it.  I  have  never 
hurt  anybody  or  stole  anything.  I  have  been  a  bad  man,  but 
I  am  not  guilty  of  anything  deserving  of  hanging."  He  fre- 
quently asked  that  a  minister  should  be  sent  for.  *'One  called 
this  afternoon,  but  hadn't  time  to  stay  then,  but  wanted  me  to 
send  for  him  if  anything  happened." 

Again  he  was  warned  that  his  moments  were  numbered, 
and  again  asked  to  confess,  if  he  had  any  confession  to  make. 
''I  killed  the  man  in  the  mountains  in  self-defense  and  have 
been  tried  and  acquitted.  The  man  in  the  Black  Hills  was 
killed  by  another  fellow.  I  never  stole  anything  from  anybody. 
I  did  assist  in  robbing  Squire  Brooks,  but  I  was  nearly  out 
of  money  and  had  to  do  it  or  starve.  I  only  had  six  or  seven 
dollars,  and  could  not  get  any  any  other  way.  I  had  to  do  it 
or  die.  I  have  been  a  very  bad  man,  but  have  done  nothing  to 
be  hanged  for.  Spare  my  life;  any  other  punishment.  Oh,  my 
poor  mother!  it  will  kill  her.  Don't  let  it  get  to  her;  send 
for  a  Catholic  minister." 

His  confession  or  remarks  were  constantly  interrupted  by 
his  cries.  In  fact,  in  the  trying  moment  he  was  completely 
unmanned,  crying  and  sobbing  like  a  baby,  and  uttering  prayers 
for  mercy  from  Him  whose  laws  he  had  frequently  and  re- 
peatedly outraged — a  spectacle  quite  different  from  that  pre- 
sented by  Musgrove.  After  he  had  said  all  that  he  had  to  say, 
the  order  was  heard,  "'Drive  on,"  and  the  wagon  which  had 


124  MUSGROVE  AND  HIS  GANG. 

served  as  liis  frail  bulwark  between  life  and  eternity,  moved 
from  under,  and  the  spirit  of  Sanford  S.  C.  Duggan  took  its 
flight  to  the  presence  of  Him  who  shall  judge  us  all  according 
to  the  deeds  done  in  this  world.  The  fall,  about  eighteen  inches, 
broke  his  neck.  He  was  a  man  six  feet  two  or  three  inches  in 
height  and  weighed  205  pounds.  After  the  body  was  cut  down 
it  was  given  in  charge  of  the  coroner. 

Thus  ended  the  terrible  series  of  tragedies  which  began 
with  the  shooting  of  Miles  Hill  at  Golden  on^the  night  of  the 

■ 

22d  of  November.  That  the  killings  were  justified  no  man  who  has 
ever  lived  on  the  frontier  at  such  times  as  those  were  will  deny. 
In  all  these  affairs  Gen.  Cook  and  his  officers  were  more  or  less 
concerned,  but  at  all  times  doing  all  in  their  power  both  to 
bring  offenders  against  the  law  to  justice,  and  then  to  see  that 
the  laws  were  not  violated  when  they  were  once  secured.  The 
lynchings  they  would  gladly  have  prevented,  but  it  was  useless 
for  them  to  fly  in  the  face  of  an  entire  community,  which  had 
been  outraged  and  which  was  aroused,  not  so  much  to  venge- 
ance as  to  the  necessity  of  protecting  itself  against  the  rough 
element  of  the  plains.  The  pictures  drawn  are  not  pleasant 
ones,  but  they  are  a  part  of  the  history  of  Denver,  and  have 
been  given  as  such  without  any  attempt  at  exaggeration  or 
undue  coloring. 


THE  EXCHANGE  BANK  ROBBERY. 
CHAPTER  XVI. 

ROBBERY  OF  THE  EXCHANGE  BANK— FOUR  THOUSAND  DOLLARS 
STOLEN  IN  BROAD  DAYLIGHT  WITH  THE  OFFICIALS  PRESENT— 
GEN.  COOK  GOES  TO  WORK  WITHOUT  A  CLUE  AND  SECURES 
THE  THIEVES  AND  THE   BOOTY   IN  TWO  HOURS. 

May  12,  1879,  Cole's  circus  struck  its  tent  in  Denver  and  pre- 
pared to  give  one  of  the  very  creditable  performances  which  gen- 
erally characterize  this  "monster  aggregation.''  The  circus  had 
but  recently  returned  to  America  from  Australia  and  was  passing 
through  the  country  with  considerable  prestige.  Being  the  means 
of  getting  large  crowds  of  people  together,  it  was  naturally  fol- 
lowed up  or  accompanied  by  as  depraved  a  set  of  sneak  thieves 
and  pickpockets  as  ever  traveled  in  the  shadow  of  any  circus. 
The  day  of  the  beginning  of  the  series  of  performances  given  in 
this  city  was  marked  by  an  occurrence  which  will  ever  serve  to 
call  the  date  to  mind.  On  that  day  a  robbery  was  committed  in 
Denver,  which  will  long  be  remembered  for  the  shrewdness  with 
which  it  was  planned,  the  expediency  with  which  it  was  executed, 
and  also  for  the  speedy  overtaking  of  the  thieves  and  the  restora- 
tion of  the  stolen  property  to  its  owners.  The  robbery  took  place 
at  the  Exchange  Bank,  then  located  on  the  corner  of  Fifteenth 
and  Blake  streets,  about  1  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  while  the 
circus  procession  was  passing  and  while  the  streets  in  front  of 
the  building  were  thronged  with  people,  including  those  engaged 
in  the  parade  and  those  who  were  looking  on  as  it  moved  by. 

About  1  o'clock  the  head  of  the  procession  began  to  move  up 
Blake  street  from  the  depot.  The  cashier  of  the  bank,  Mr.  J.  M. 
Strickler,  was  at  his  desk.  Mr.  A.  J.  Williams,  then  the  vice- 
president  and  now  the  president  of  the  institution,  was  in  the 
private  office  in  the  rear,  and  other  attaches  of  the  bank  were  be- 
hind the  iron  railing.  There  was  a  temporary  lull  in  the  task  of 
receiving  deposits,  and  the  bank  officers,  with  the  exception  of 


126  THE  EXCHANGE  BANK  ROBBERY. 

Mr.  Strickler,  stepped  out  to  the  door  to  see  the  procession  go  by. 
This  left  no  one  behind  the  counter  except  Mr.  Strickler,  who  was 
running  over  some  deposits  that  had  been  made  by  patrons  of  the 
bank,  and  talking  with  a  stranger.  A  few  moments  later  Hon.  J. 
F.  Welborn  stepped  into  the  bank  and  asked  Mr.  Williams  to 
come  out  to  the  front,  as  he  desired  to  speak  to  him  a  few  mo- 
ments on  business.  Mr.  Williams  joined  Judge  Welborn  at  one 
of  the  large  windows  fronting  on  Blake  street,  and  they  stood 
there  chatting  until  after  the  procession  had  gone  by.  The  other 
bank  officers  returned  to  their  desks,  and  Mr.  Strickler  a  few  min- 
utes later  noticed  that  a  large  pile  of  greenbacks,  done  up  in 
packages  of  |500  and  upwards,  was  missing  from  the  table. 
Thinking  they  had  been  placed  in  one  of  the  cash  drawers,  he 
asked  his  assistant,  Mr.  Rockwell,  who  replied  that  he  had  not 
seen  the  money,  and  just  about  that  time  it  began  to  dawn  upon 
the  officers  that  their  short  absence  from  the  counter  had  cost  the 
institution  nearly  |4,000,  about  that  amount  of  money  having 
been  piled  upon  the  table  awaiting  deposit. 

Gen.  Cook  was  immediately  sent  for.  He  found  the  officers 
of  the  bank  in  a  state  of  considerable  excitement,  and  all  of  them 
thoroughly  at  sea.  The  robbery  was  to  them  a  terrible  mystery. 
None  of  them  had  been  out  of  the  bank  at  all  and  Mr.  Strickler, 
the  efficient  cashier,  had  remained  continuously  in  his  office.  They 
could  not  have  believed  that  the  bank  had  been  robbed  if  they  had 
not  had  the  evidence  which  their  eyes  furnished  that  the  money, 
which  a  few  minutes  before  had  been  there,  was  missing.  That 
some  one  should  have  come  into  the  building  and  taken  out 
$4,000  in  money,  even  at  a  time  when  there  was  a  circus  around, 
seemed  to  them  well  nigh  incredible.  But  the  fact  stared  them  in 
the  face  that  the  money  had  disappeared,  and  they  came  to  Cook 
to  find  it.  No  one  could  suggest  a  point  that  would  be  of  assist- 
ance, and  he  began  to  put  questions,  with  the  hope  of  getting 
some  clue  which  would  aid  him  in  his  apparently  almost  hopeless 
search.  The  clue  was  at  last  obtained.  Mr.  Strickler  remem- 
bered that  while  the  other  officials  and  the  employ«^s  of  the  bank 
had  been  out  looking  at  the  circus,  he  had  been  engaged  in  con- 
versation with  an  individual  who  had  brought  in  a  $100  note  to 
get  it  changed,  and  the  note  being  of  doubtful  appearance,  he  had 


THE  EXCHANGE  BANK  ROBBERY.  ^OJ 

seemed  bent  upon  drawing  the  cashier  into  an  animated  discus- 
sion, which  was  carried  on  on  the  part  of  the  stranger  in  an  un- 
necessarily loud  and  vehement  tone  of  voice. 

"That  is  the  man  we  want  to  get/'  said  Cook.  "He  was  the 
steerer  for  the  thieves." 

The  detective  at  once  jumped  at  the  conclusion  that  ordinar- 
ily a  man  would  not  go  into  a  bank  to  get  change  while  a  circus 
was  passing.  The  man's  manner,  when  further  described,  con- 
firmed the  opinion  previously  formed,  and  he  obtained  a  descrip- 
tion of  the  fellow  as  speedily-  as  possible,  upon  wiiich  thread  he 
went  to  work  to  run  the  case  down  and  restore  the  bank  its 
stolen  funds. 

Before  starting  out,  however,  he  made  a  survey  of  the  build- 
ing, for  the  purpose  of  completing  his  theory  of  the  modus  oper- 
andi of  the  robbery  and  how  many  had  been  engaged  in  it. 

The  portion  of  the  building  occupied  as  a  bank  was  composed 
of  two  rooms — a  large  one,  in  which  the  active  employes  were 
engaged,  and  a  smaller  one,  used  as  his  private  office  by  Mr.  Wil- 
liams. The  two  communicated  through  a  partition  door,  and  botk 
had  doors  opening  upon  Fifteenth  street. 

The  rear  door  on  Blake  street,  leading  into  the  private  oflSce, 
was  usually  locked  with  a  spring  lock,  working  from  the  inside. 
It  could  not  be  opened  without  a  key,  except  from  the  inside. 
From  the  private  office  there  was  a  door  leading  into  the  inner 
portion  of  the  bank,  enclosed  with  counters  and  railings,  and  an- 
other door  leading  straight  to  the  front  entrance.  Gen.  Cook  con- 
cluded that  the  plan  must  have  been  arranged  beforehand,  and 
the  theft  committed  without  any  delay.  The  rear  door  being 
open,  a  person  could  gain  access  to  the  vaults  and  cash  drawers, 
and  by  stooping  low  would  not  be  visible  to  any  one  on  the  out- 
side of  the  counter.  It  was  therefore  presumed  that  while  one  of 
the  thieves  guarded  the  rear  door  for  his  pal  and  another  talked 
with  the  cashier,  the  third  crawled  deftly  on  his  hands  and  knees 
and  reached  up  for  the  money,  sweeping  the  counter  pretty  clear, 
and  taking  all  the  currency  that  was  in  sight.  The  time  con- 
sumed by  the  jjrocession  in  passing  was  sufficiently  long  to  en- 
able the  thieves  to  do  this  without  showing  their  hurry  or  doing 
the  work  bunglingly. 


"1^28  THE  EXCHANGE  BANK  ROBBERY. 

This  work  beino;  accomplished,  the  thief  who  had  taken  the 
money  wrapped  it  in  a  red  handkerchief  and  crept  to  the  back 
door.  Seeing  his  friend  clear,  the  man  with  the  |100  bill  took  his 
departure  and  all  three  joined  on  the  outside,  passing  hurriedly 
down  Fifteenth  street  and  past  the  Elephant  corral,  as  had  been 
noticed  by  spectators,  who  did  not,  of  course,  know  what  had 
transpired  in  the  bank.  At  that  corral,  as  was  afterwards 
learned,  a  portion  of  the  money  was  left. 

Having  a  description  of  one  of  the  men  who  had  been  in  the 
robbery,  and  being  in  possession  of  the  course  that  the  robbers 
had  taken.  Cook  went  to  work  himself  and  sent  others  of  his  of- 
ficers out  in  the  search.  They  had  some  hope  of  finding  the 
thieves  through  other  operations,  and  some  of  the  detectives  at- 
tended the  circus  for  the  purpose  of  getting  a  clue  of  this  kind. 
The  fact  that  a  number  of  smaller  robberies  were  committed  dur- 
ing the  forenoon,  and,  in  every  instance,  in  the  crowds  where  the 
procession  passed,  strengthened  the  theory  that  there  was  a  well- 
organized  gang  at  work,  and  that  they  were  doing  their  work  un- 
der cover  of  Cole's  circus  procession.  But  a  more  hopeless  task 
could  hardly  be  imagined.  Here  was  a  bank  robbed  in  broad  day- 
light, with  the  officers  and  clerks  moving  about  the  room  and 
keeping  a  watchful  eye  on  the  money  deposits.  No  one  who 
could  recognize  them  had  seen  the  thieves  enter  or  depart,  and 
no  one  connected  with  the  bank  could  give  the  ofticers  any  but 
the  slightest  clue  as  to  the  character  or  appearance  of  the  bold 
outlaws.  But  Cook  is  not  a  man  prone  to  give  up  the  track  of  a 
thief  because  the  trail  happens  to  be  cold.  According  to  methods 
and  intuitions  of  his  own  he  went  to  work.  He  relied  mainly 
upon  his  great  knowledge  of  the  thieves  of  the  country,  believing 
that  if  the  robbers  had  been  well  known  and  experienced  crooks, 
as  their  work  showed  they  were,  he  would  know  them  or  some  of 
them  when  he  should  come  upon  them. 

He  accordingly  set  out  to  look  for  his  men.  Two  hours  after- 
wards brought  the  welcome  information  to  the  bank  that  two  out 
of  the  three  robbers  had  been  captured  and  part  of  the  money  re- 
covered. In  his  search  Gen.  Cook  visited  the  American  house, 
.'ind  while  sauntering  about  there,  Cook's  eyes  fell  upon  a  form 
that  was  not  unknown  to  the  eves  of  the  detective.    A  brief  retro- 


THE  EXCHANGE  BANK  ROBBERY.  J29 

spection  caused  him  to  remember  the  man  as  one  Joe  Parrish,  a 
noted  thief,  whom  he  had  seen  ten  years  before  in  Chicago.  He 
was  observed  to  be  accompanied  by  another  man,  whose  face 
could  not  be  seen  at  first.  The  two  moved  about  suspiciously, 
and  Cook  decided  upon  a  closer  investigation  of  the  pair.  At  last 
he  obtained  a  full  view  of  Parrish's  partner,  and  found  him  to  be 
not  onlv  a  first-water  Italian  crook  from  St.  Louis,  but  also  that 
his  description  answered  that  given  by  Mr.  Strickler  of  the  man 
who  had  called  to  get  a  bill  changed.  These  were  the  men  wanted. 
Of  this  fact  Gen.  Cook  was  quite  certain.  He  consequently  left 
them  and  went  in  search  of  his  deputy,  Mr.  Smith.  That  gentle- 
man joining  his  chief,  they  returned  to  the  American  house  '*for 
business." 

Spotting  their  men,  who  did  not  seem  to  be  laboring  under 
any  Aieasiness  of  apprehension,  they  decided  upon  immediate 
arrest,  and  came  down  upon  them  like  a  thousand  of  brick. 
Cook  walked  deliberately  up  to  Parrish,  a  genteely  dressed  young 
man,  with  a  Jewish  cast  of  countenance,  and  announced  that  he 
was  under  the  pleasant  necessity  of  placing  him  under  arrest. 
Parrish — who  subsequently  gave  his  name  as  F.  Wiggins — made 
no  resistance;  did  not  even  raise  the  slightest  objection  or  remon- 
strance. Meanwhile,  Smith  had  approached  the  other  party  and 
placed  him  under  arrest.  This  man — who  gave  his  name  as  I.  H. 
Russell,  though  it  was  an  alias — was  also  neatly  dressed  and  of 
gentlemanly  appearance.  He  exclaimed,  as  Smith  laid  his  hands 
upon  him:    "Well,  well!"    Only  this  and  nothing  more. 

As  the  ofiicers  were  conveying  their  prisoners  to  a  coach, 
however,  preparatory  to  taking  them  to  jail,  Russell  turned  to 
Gen.  Cook  and  said:  "Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  tell  me  what 
t:his  is  all  about?" 

He  also  informed  Cook  that  he  was  a  lawyer  in  good  stand- 
ing, afterwards  stating  that  he  had  come  to  Denver  as  a  com- 
mercial traveler,  and  was  selling  jewelry.  When  Cook  asked  him 
where  his  samples  were,  he  replied  that  he  was  dealing  in  cheap 
jewelry  and  did  not  carry  any  samples. 

Wiggins  never  spoke  a  word  from  the  time  of  his  arrest  till 
he  was  behind  the  bars. 

While  Smith  was  looking  after  the  prisoners  in  the  office  of 


130  THE  EXCHANGE  BANK  ROBBERY. 

the  American  house,  Cook  went  up  to  the  room — No.  73 — occu- 
pied by  Wiggins  and  Russell  and  instituted  a  vigorous  search. 
The  prisoners  were  also  carefully  searched,  and  |800  in  all  was 
found  upon  the  two,  the  bulk  of  which  was  identified  as  money 
stolen  from  the  bank.  A  portion  of  the  money  found  upon  the 
prisoners  was  f  100  in  five  and  ten-dollar  bills,  which  was  hidden 
in  the  front  part  of  one  of  Mr.  Wiggins'  shoes. 

Both  the  prisoners  stoutly  protested  their  innocence  of  the 
crime  charged  against  them,  but  the  proof  of  their  guilt  was  as 
straight  as  could  possibly  have  been  desired,  and  no  one  enter- 
tained any  doubt  that  the  right  men  had  been  taken.  The  job 
was  one  of  the  neatest  ever  performed  by  a  detective  in  any  place, 
and  Gen.  Cook  and  his  co-worker  were  praised  on  every  hand. 
Starting  out  at  2  o'clock  without  a  single  clue,  they  had  in  two 
hours  found  and  jailed  the  robbers  and  secured  a  fine  roll  of 
money,  if  not  all  or  the  bulk  of  it.  "With  such  detectives. as  these 
in  Denver,"  said  one,  ''thieves  will  certainly  conclude  that  this  is 
not  the  place  for  them."  "They  are  better  than  all  the  iron  safes 
in  the  country,"  said  another.  Indeed,  the  detectives  were  con- 
gratulated upon  every  hand.  ' 

But  one  of  the  thieves  was  still  missing,  with  something  like 
5:3,000  in  his  possession.  He  proved  to  be  more  evasive  than  the 
other  two  had  been,  and  succeeded  in  getting  out  of  town.  The 
officers  were  at  first  nonplussed  and  unable  to  obtain  the  slight- 
est clue  as  to  his  identity.  They  could  not  turn  a  wheel.  At  last 
they  succeeded  in  getting  the  man's  name,  which  was  Sam 
Straddler,  otherwise  known  as  "Dayton  Sammy,"  from  his  pals, 
and  learned  that  he  was  in  Cincinnati.  Thitherward  Cook  dis- 
patched Smith,  who  arrived  just  in  time  to  learn  that  his  bird 
had  flown.  He  had  contrived  to  get  away  from  the  police  au- 
thorities there  and  could  not  be  found. 

Parrish  and  Russell  remained  in  jail  for  several  months,  and 
at  last  compromised  the  matter,  so  that  the  bank  was  out  nothing 
in  the  end. 

It  is  a  fact  worth  noting  that  neither  Mr.  Russell,  Mr.  Par- 
rish or  Mr.  Straddler  has  been  seen  in  the  city  since  they  were 
turned  out  of  jail.  They  don't  get  along  well  with  Dave  Cook, 
and  prefer  to  be  widely  separated  from  him. 


THE  HAYWAED  MUKDEE. 
CHAPTER  XVII. 

SEMINOLE  AND  WOODRUFF,  THE  MURDERERS,  MAKE  THEIR  FIRST 
APPEARANCE  IN  MIDDLE  PARK,  WHERE  THEY  TURN  UP  AS  ROB- 
BERS AND  TRICKSTERS— A  VISIT  TO  LEADVILLE  AND  GEORGE- 
TOWN WITH  ACCOMPANYING  INCIDENTS— OLD  MAN  HAYWARD 
ENTICED  FROM  HOME  NEAR  GOLD  HILL  AND  FOULLY  DEALT 
WITH— THE  MURDERERS  COME  TO  DENVER  AND  ESCAPE  ON 
STOLEN  HORSES— CHIEF  COOK  ON  THEIR  TRACK— A  DETECTIVE 
AT  PINE  RIDGE  AGENCY— THE  VICTIM'S  BODY  FOUND  A  MONTH 
AFTER  THE  MURDER— A  GREAT  CRIME  AND  A  PROFOUND 
MYSTERY. 

lu  all  the  criminal  history  of  Colorado — iu  all  the  register  of 
the  achievements  of  the  Kocky  Mountain  Detective  Association — 
the  ensanguined  pages  show  no  more  causeless,  unprovoked  mur- 
der than  that  of  R.  B.  Haywaid.  in  September,  1879.  The  diffi- 
culties met  and  overcome  by  the  detectives,  and  the  prompt  and 
tragic  end  of  the  criminals,  lend  an  additional  interest  to  the 
case  and  make  it  one  of  the  most  famous  in  the  far  West,  as  it  is 
most  assuredly  one  of  the  most  noted  in  Colorado  iu  some  of  it» 
features.  The  absence  of  any  material  temptation;  the  temporary 
escape  of  the  murderers;  the  accidental  finding  of  the  body  of  the 
victim;  the  patient  search  of  the  officers;  the  final  arrest  of  the 
men  hundreds  of  miles  away;  the  identification  and  confession; 
and  then  the  lynching,  so  rich  in  dramatic  detail,  form  a  narrative 
reading  more  like  a  sensational  romance  than  the  cold  facts  of 
an  actual  reality. 

On  the  10th  of  August,  1879,  Gen.  D.  J.  Cook,  superintendent 
of  the  Rocky  Mountain  Detective  Association,  received  a  dispatch 
from  Sherifl:  Besey,  of  Grand  county,  Colo.,  telling  him  to 
keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  a  man  looking  very  much  like  a  China- 
man, and  evidently  with  some  Indian  blood  in  his  veins,  wha 
was  wanted  for  the  robberj'  of  the  house  of  Mr.  Frank  Byers,  in 


132  THE  HAYWARD  MURDER. 

Middle  park.  The  robber  had  secured  a  watch  and  a  few  trinkets 
of  more  or  less  value,  and  then,  helping  himself  to  a  mule,  had 
departed  for  other  fields.  This  robbery  had  occurred  on  the  8th, 
and  the  intricate  machinery  of  the  detectives  was  put  in  motion 
as  soon  as  notified,  for  Mr.  Byers  was  a  well-known  citizen,  and 
presently  information  began  to  take  shape  and  flow  through  the 
properly  appointed  channels  to  headquarters. 

It  was  found  that  on  the  12th,  four  days  after  the  Byers  rob- 
bery, and  two  after  the  detectives  had  been  notified,  the  robber 
had  appeared  in  Georgetown  and  called  upon  Dr.  William  A. 
Burr,  giving  his  name  as  Joseph  F.  Seminole,  and  stating  that 
he  came  from  Emerson  Kinney,  of  Hot  Sulphur  Springs,  who 
desired  the  medical  gentleman's  immediate  presence,  as  Mrs.  Kin- 
ney was  dangerously  ill. 

"When  you  get  about  six  miles  out  of  town  on  the  road  to 
Empire,"  said  the  cool  and  crafty  scoundrel,  "stop  at  the  ranch 
of  Mr.  Lindstrom  and  get  my  mule,  which  I  left  there.  It  will  be 
much  better  for  you  to  use  my  animal  than  to  ride  your  own  on 
such  a  long  and  hard  trip.  When  you  reach  the  Summit  house, 
in  Berthoud  pass,  just  present  this  order  and  the  proprietor  will 
furnish  you  with  a  horse  and  buggy.'- 

The  order  that  was  given  read  as  follows: 

"Please  give  to  Dr.  W.  A.  Burr,  horse  and  buggy,  and  charge 
same  to  Emerson  Kinney,  of  Hot  Sulphur  Springs,  on  same  order 
as  before.  J.  F.  SEMINOLE." 

When  the  doctor  reached  Lindstrom's  place  he  exchanged 
his  horse  for  the  mule  left  bv  Seminole,  and  continued  on  his  wav. 
At  the  Summit  house  the  foregoing  order  was  presented,  but  the 
proprietor  declined  to  furnish  a  conveyance  on  the  strength  of  it, 
saying  that  he  did  not  know  Seminole  at  all,  but  offering  a  horse 
and  buggy  if  the  doctor  would  be  personally  responsible  for  it, 
a  proposition  which  the  latter  accepted.  At  last  Mr.  Kinney's 
ranch  was  reached,  and  to  his  utter  stupefaction  the  doctor  found 
that  his  expected  patient  was  not  only  never  in  better  health, 
but  had  not  the  slightest  idea  of  being  sick.  Breathing  ven- 
geance deep  and  dire,  the  good-hearted  but  exasperated  doctor 
started  on  his  return,  and  when  Lindstrom's  wqs  again  reached, 
he  was  greeted  with  the  intelligence  that  Seminole  had  been  there 


THE  HAY  WARD  MURDER.  133 

and  secured  his  horse,  and  to  this  day  that  animal  has  never  heen 
seen,  or  even  heard  of. 

Thus  far  the  detectives  got,  and  then  were  ballced.  To  them 
it  was  but  a  case  of  robbery — they  never  dreamed  how  soon  it 
was  to  develop  into  a  ghastly  murder.  Somewhat  piqued  at  their 
non-success,  although  the  crime  was  comparatively  but  a  paltry 
one,  they  continued  their  efforts,  and  after  a  while  traced  Sem- 
inole to  Leadville,  where,  on  the  7th  of  September,  he,  in  com- 
pany with  a  man  known  as  Tom  Johnson,  whose  correct  name 
proved  to  be  Samuel  Woodruff,  hired  two  horses  for  the  avowed 
purpose  of  merely  taking  a  little  ride.  While  skirmishing  around, 
they  noticed  a  Mr.  Aldrich  draw  two  hundred  dollars  from  a  bank, 
and  learned  that  he  was  going  immediately  to  Georgetown. 
They  followed  behind  him,  and  when  six  miles  from  his  destina- 
tion rode  up  to  him,  drew  their  pistols  and  called  upon  him  to 
halt  and  deliver.  Aldrich,  however,  was  not  of  that  kind,  and 
jerked  his  own  weapon  and  turned  loose,  though,  unfortunately, 
not  hitting  either  of  the  two  scoundrels,  who  turned  and  fled  pre- 
cipitately. When  he  arrived  in  Georgetown,  he  promptly  notified 
the  sheriff  of  Clear  Creek  county,  and  that  official  immediately 
struck  the  trail  and  followed  it  up  without  the  loss  of  a  moment. 
So  rapidly  did  he  gain  on  the  fleeing  desperadoes  that  they  dis- 
mounted from  their  horses,  turned  the  animals*  loose  and  made 
their  escape  in  the  brush.  The  animals  were  returned  to  their 
owners  and  the  sherifl"  abandoned  the  pursuit  of  the  men. 

The  rascals  continued  on  foot  until  September  10.  They 
reached  the  place  of  Mr.  Anderson,  and  hired  him  to  drive  them 
to  Denver.  They  stated  that  they  had  no  money,  but  an  ancle 
of  theirs  kept  a  livery  stable  in  Denver,  and  he  would  pay  for  all 
the  trouble.  While  on  the  trip  Anderson  noticed  that  his  passen- 
gers did  have  money,  and  remarked  that  they  had  better  pay  the 
toll  charges  at  least,  as  he  was  not  willing  to  spend  cash  right 
out  of  his  pocket  and  trust  them  besides.  But  they  refused,  and 
then  Anderson  said  he  would  go  no  further;  but  upon  being  con- 
fronted by  two  cocked  pistols,  he  changed  his  mind  and  drov<j  on. 
About  a  mile  further  two  wagons  were  seen  coming  from  the  di- 
rection of  Denver  and  going  in  that  of  Georgetown,  and  when 
almost  within  hailing  distance  Messrs.   Seminole  and  Johnson 


134  TH^  HAY  WARD  MURDER. 

jumped  out  and  took  to  the  brusli,  evidently  fearing  that  Ander- 
son would  call  for  assistance.  Eelieved  of  his  undesirable  passen- 
gers, Anderson  joined  the  other  wagons,  and  in  their  company 
returned  to  Georgetown. 

That  same  afternoon,  about  half-past  four,  this  pair  of  prec- 
ious scoundrels  came  to  the  house  of  R.  B.  Hayward,  near  Big 
Hill,  Jefferson  county,  and  engaged  him  to  gear  up  and  take 
them  to  a  cattle  camp  they  said  they  were  hunting,  supposed  to 
be  near  A.  Rooney's  place,  near  Green  mountain,  just  outside  of 
Hogback.  They  passed  the  Mt.  Vernon  toll-gate  at  about  half- 
past  six  that  evening,  and  from  here  the  fate  of  Mr.  Hayward 
was  an  unfathomed  mystery  until  his  body  was  found. 

Of  course  Mr.  Hay  ward's  people  became  uneasy  on  account 
of  his  failure  to  return  the  evening  after  he  left,  and  when  he  did 
not  come  the  next  day  Mrs.  Hayward  took  steps  to  inform  the 
Jefiterson  county  authorities  of  the  circumstances  under  which 
her  husband  had  gone  away  from  home,  and  of  his  prolonged 
iibsence.  They  made  thorough  search,  but  failed  to  discover  any- 
thing, either  concerning  Mr.  Hayward's  whereabouts,  as  to  what 
disposition  had  been  made  of  his  team,  or  where  the  men  were 
who  had  gone  away  with  him. 

On  the  16th  of  September,  C.  P.  Hoyt,  of  the  Rocky  Mountain 
Detective  Association,  reported  the  facts  of  the  mysterious  ab- 
sence of  Mr.  Hayward  to  Superintendent  Cook,  and  gave  the  de- 
scription of  the  two  men  last  seen  with  the  missing  man. 

In  the  meantime,  on  September  11,  the  same  two  men  (though 
the  fact  of  the  murder  was  not  then  known)  went  to  Brown  & 
Marr,  of  the  'bus  barn,  on  Arapahoe  street,  Denver,  and  hired 
two  bay  mares  and  a  top-rig  buggy,  paying  four  dollars  in  ad- 
vance. This  was  about  2  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  they  said 
they  merely  wanted  to  take  a  little  spin  around  town  and  would 
return  at  a  certain  specified  hour.  As  this  time  had  long  been 
passed.  Brown  &  Marr  placed  the  matter  in  the  hands  of  the  de- 
tective association  late  in  the  evening  of  the  11th,  and  they  tele- 
graphed all  over  a  description  of  the  missing  rig.  About  11 
o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  12th,  Superintendent  Cook  received 
a  message  from  the  town  of  Loveland,  in  Larimer  county,  stating 
that  two  men  had  abandoned  a  buggy  answering  the  description 


THE  HAY  WARD  MURDER.  137 

of  the  missing  one,  and  had  mounted  the  mares  and  ridden  off. 
An  oflSeer  was  immediately  dispatched  to  the  scene,  and  sure 
enough  it  was  the  identical  vehicle  taken  from  the  Denver  stable. 

As  it  was  now  ascertained  that  the  thieves  had  gone  north. 
Superintendent  Cook  notified  Assistant  Superintendent  Carr,  at 
Cheyenne,  to  be  on  the  lookout,  and  on  the  14th  of  the  month  Gen. 
Cook  received  information  from  him  that  two  men,  answering 
the  description  of  the  two  who  had  hired  the  horses  and  buggy, 
had  remained  all  night  in  the  vicinity  of  a  ranch  near  La  Porte, 
Larimer  county.  The  men  represented  to  the  owner  of  the  ranch 
that  they  belonged  to  a  cattle  outfit,  and  that  the  cattle  were 
down  in  the  bottoms  near  at  hand,  while  the  wagon  containing 
the  camping  outfit  was  far  to  the  rear.  They  were  obliged  to  be 
with  their  cattle,  they  said,  and  would  like  to  borrow  a  couple  of 
buffalo  robes  until  morning.  The  kind-hearted  ranchman  ac- 
ceded to  their  request,  and  never  again  beheld  his  robes,  nor  in 
the  morning  could  he  find  any  signs  or  traces  of  cattle. 

On  the  22d  of  the  same  month,  a  gentleman  named  Leech, 
while  riding  from  Laramie  City  to  Cheyenne,  on  horseback,  met 
two  men  mounted  on  bay  mares,  with  folded  buffalo  robes  as  sad- 
dles, at  the  crossing  of  the  Union  Pacific  railroad,  four  miles  east 
of  Sherman  station.  They  stopped  him,  asked  him  what  time  it 
was,  and  where  he  lived,  and  as  they  had  a  hard  look  about  them, 
he  assured  them  he  lived  about  two  hundred  yards  from  there, 
on  the  other  side  of  a  little  butte,  though  the  truth  of  the  matter 
was,  there  wasn't  a  house  within  four  miles  of  the  spot.  When 
Mr.  Leech  reached  Chevenne  he  met  Detective  Carr,  and  men- 
tioned  this  meeting  near  Sherman,  and  when  the  oflScer  gave  a 
description  of  the  missing  horses  and  thieves,  Mr.  Leech  recog- 
nized it  immediately. 

Carr  then  went  diligently  to  work,  and  after  a  while  ascer- 
tained that  on  the  23d  two  men,  riding  bay  mares,  with  no  sad- 
dles, but  buffalo  robes  in  lieu  thereof,  had  come  to  the  ranch  of 
Nick  Janise,  near  Sidney  bridge,  on  the  North  Platte.  This  in- 
formation was  forwarded  to  Gen.  Cook,  and  Mr.  Leech,  having 
come  down  to  Denver  on  business,  was  interviewed  at  his  hotel 
by  Detective  Joe  Arnold,  as  a  representative  of  Chief  Cook,  who 
had,  as  did  also  Gen.  Cook,  shrewd  suspicions  that  the  murderers 


138 


THE  HAYWARD  MURDER. 


of  Hayward  and  the  horse  thieves  were  the  same  parties.  He 
showed  Mr.  Leech  a  description  of  the  men  who  had  engaged 
Mr.  Hayward  to  drive  them  to  the  cattle  ranch,  and  that  gentle- 
man immediately  recognized  them,  being  especially  sure  because 
of  the  white  bone-handled  knife  and  the  revolvers  carried  by  the 
suspicious-looking  strangers. 

The  result  of  this  interview  was  that  Detective  W.  W.  Ayres, 
of  the  Rocky  Mountain  Association,  was  sent  in  pursuit  of  the 
men,  starting  from  Denver  on  the  4th  of  October.  By  this  time 
the  Hayward  murder  had  become  state  talk,  as  the  mystery  was 
still  unsolved  and  as  the  cold-blooded  nature  of  the  affair  had 
also  become  generally  known.  Currency  was  also  given  to  the 
fact  that  he  had  left  an  intelligent  wife  and  two  bright  daughters 
just  budding  into  womanhood,  to  watch  and  wait  for  the  return 
of  the  husband  and  father  who  would  never  return. 

There  remained  hardly  any  trace  of  doubt  that  Mr.  Hayward 
had  been  murdered  by  the  two  men  with  whom  he  had  started 
out.  This  suspicion  was  greatly  strengthened  by  learning  the  late 
history  of  the  two  men  who  had  gone  with  him,  which  history 
has  been  given  in  the  beginning  of  this  story. 

Mrs.  Hayward  was  for  a  while  almost  frantic  with  grief  at 
the  loss  of  her  husband,  but  she  soon  rallied  with  the  genuine 
pluck  which  is  the  characteristic  of  most  western  women,  and  de- 
termined to  do  what  she  might  to  avenge  his  death.  She  of- 
fered a  reward  of  |200  for  the  capture  of  the  murderers.  This, 
offer  was  followed  by  one  from  Jefferson  county,  agreeing  to- 
pay  $500  for  their  capture,  and  soon  Gov.  Pitkin  proclaimed  a 
reward  on  the  part  of  the  state  of  |1,000  for  their  apprehension^ 
making  |1,700  the  aggregate  sum  offered  for  the  fugitives. 

As  related  above.  Gen.  Cook  had  already  formed  the  theory^ 
though  he  kept  it  to  himself,  that  the  two  men  who  had  stolen 
the  horses  were  the  Hayward  murderers,  and  he  decided  to  have 
them  followed  to  "the  jumping-off  place"  if  necessary,  or  get 
them.  He  had  already  formed  a  pretty  definite  theory  as  ta 
the  destination  of  the  two  men.  He  had  learned,  among  numer- 
ous other  facts  which  he  had  gathered  together,  that  Seminole 
was  a  half-breed  Sioux  Indian,  and  that  he  belonged  at  Pine 
Ridge  agency,  Dakota,  where  he  had  a  family,  going  there  by 


THE  HAYWARD  MURDER.  I39 

the  name  of  J.  S.  Leuiscbamniesse.  As  lias  already  been  seen, 
the  men  who  stole  the  horses  had  turned  their  attention  in 
that  direction,  and  thitherward  Cook  directed  Mr.  Ayres,  never 
informing  him,  however,  that  he  had  any  suspicion  that  they 
were  guilty  of  any  crime  greater  than  that  of  horse  stealing, 
wisely  concluding  that  if  Seminole's  fellow  Indians  knew  that 
he  was  charged  with  murder  and  likely  to  be  hanged,  they  would 
not  permit  the  detective  to  bring  him  away,  and  believing  that 
the  best  way  of  keeping  this  fact  from  them  was  to  impart 
it  to  no  one.  On  the  other  hand,  they  would, perhaps  even  assist 
the  detective  in  getting  him  for  horse  stealing. 

Mr.  Ayres  had  a  long  and  arduous  journey  before  him,  as 
he  could  look  forward  to  at  least  a  thousand  miles  of  stage- 
coaching  and  horseback  riding  in  the  north,  with  winter  com- 
ing on,  and  with  many  hardships  to  endure  in  a  land  of  savages. 
But  he  started  out  undaunted  by  the  prospect,  and  the  result 
shows  how  faithfullv  he  worked  and  how  successfullv  he 
wrought. 

While  he  is  making  his  way  across  the  almost  pathless 
plains  of  Wyoming  and  Dakota,  it  is  necessary  to  stop  for  a 
moment  to  relate  to  the  reader  the  fact  of  the  discovery  of  the 
body  of  Mr.  Hayward.  It  was  found  on  the  7th  of  October, 
three  days  after  Ayres  had  left  the  citj^  and  almost  a  month 
after  Mr.  Hayward  had  left  home,  in  an  old  culvert  on  the 
Golden  road,  five  miles  from  Denver.  The  body  bore  no  tes- 
timon}'  as  to  the  manner  or  cause  of  death.  It  was  greatly  de- 
cayed, but  still  was  not  beyond  identification,  and  the  coroner's 
jury  brought  in  the  verdict  that  death  was  caused  in  all  prob- 
ability by  dislocation  of  the  neck  at  the  hand  of  a  party  or 
parties  unknown.  No  wound  or  mark  of  violence  could  be  found 
anywhere  on  the  body,  and  the  theories  were  that  either  the 
murderers  had  broken  his  neck  with  some  dull  instrument  or 
else  had  poisoned  him. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

CHASING  THE  HAYWARD  MURDERERS— DETECTIVE  AYRES'  ADVEN- 
TUROUS TOUR  INTO  THE  INDIAN  COUNTRY— SEMINOLE  AS  HE 
APPEARED  WHEN  CAPTURED  AT  PINE  RIDGE  AGENCY— A  BRIEF 
BUT  FIERCE  STRUGGLE— AID  OF  THE  INDIAN  POLICE— THE  PRIS- 
ONER ESCAPES  FROM  A  TRAIN  AND  IS  RECAPTURED— MRS.  HAY- 
WARD'S   IDENTIFICATION  OF  HER   HUSBAND'S   BETRAYER. 

In  the  meantime  Detective  Ayres  bad  gone  to  Cheyenne, 
taken  horse  there  and  ridden  to  Horse  creek;  from  there  to  Big 
Horse  creek,  thence  to  Hawk  Springs  and  into  old  Bed  Cloud 
agency,  on  the  Platte.  Here  he  got  information  of  the  men  he 
was  after,  and  without  loss  of  time  pushed  on  to  Running 
Water;  from  there  to  Camp  Robinson,  thence  to  Camp  Sheridan, 
and  then  into  Pine  Ridge  agency.  The  Indian  agent,  Mr.  V.  T. 
McGillycuddy  proffered  all  assistance,  and  Joseph  Seminole  was 
soon  under  arrest.  Not  without  considerable  trouble,  however, 
as  shall  appear. 

Mr.  Ayres  had  taken  letters  to  the  agent  and  the  military, 
and  had  been  assured  that  he  should  have  every  assistance,  as 
the  Rocky  Mountain  Detective  Agency  was  well  known  and 
highly  respected  in  that  far-away  section. 

Not  only  the  officers  and  the  soldiers,  but  the  Indian  police 
as  well,  were  anxious  and  willing  to  assist  in  running  Seminole 
down.  They  recognized  the  description  as  soon  as  it  was  given 
them,  and  told  the  officer  from  the  far-away  region  that  they 
would  find  him  forthwith,  and  volunteered  to  lead  him  to  his 
place  of  abode.  Ayres  told  them  all  he  knew  of  the  crimes 
charged  against  Seminole,  the  worst  being  that  of  horse-thiev- 
ing, and  assured  them  that  he  was  wanted  on  no  more  serious 
charge  than  that  of  showing  his  undue  love  for  horseflesh.  They 
professed  great  indignation  that  their  nation  should  have  been 
disgraced  by  the  stealing  of  a  single  horse,  and  avowed  that 
he  should  be  sent  back  forthwith  to  answer  for  the  offense.    They 


THE  HAYWARD  MURDER.  141 

seemed  to  dislike  the  fellow  any  way;  possibly  because  he  was 
a  half-breed,  but  most  likely  for  the  reason  that  he  was  better 
educated  than  the  rest  of  them,  and  held  himself  in  a  manner 
aloof  from  them.  At  any  rate,  they  were  quite  willing  to  take 
the  officer  to  him,  saying  that  Seminole  should  not  only  be 
arrested,  but  that  they  would  see  that  the  officer  should  get 
away  with  him  in  good  shape. 

This  was  as  good  a  thing  as  Mr.  Ayres  wanted,  and  when 
he  was  well  rested,  the  Indians,  true  to  their  promise,  led  him 
to  the  wigwam  of  the  culprit. 

It  may  not  have  been  a  picture  of  peace  and  plenty  which 
Seminole  presented,  but  he  certainly  seemed  to  be  quite  con- 
tented, surrounded  as  he  was  by  his  squaw  and  papooses,  who 
prattled  about  in  the  dirt,  while  he  sat  enjoying  the  bliss  of 
a  long-stemmed  pipe.  The  surroundings  were  rude  and  coarse, 
but  the  half  Indian  appeared  to  be  perfectly  at  home  and  at 
ease. 

But  the  officer  of  the  law  can  not  stand  back  on  account 
of  any  qualms  of  conscience  or  foolish  sentiment  when  there 
are  arrests  to  be  made.  His  is  not  the  part  of  preserving  do- 
mestic felicity. 

When  broken  in  upon,  the  murderer  did  not  show  any 
signs  of  fear,  and  when  introduced  to  Mr.  Ayres  as  an  officer 
from  Colorado  in  search  of  him,  he  manifested  no  disposition 
to  make  resistance.  It  may  be  that  he  asked  rather  impetuously 
to  know  the  charge  against  him,  but  Ayres'  answer  that  it  was 
that  of  horse  stealing  reassured  him,  and  he  submitted  quietly, 
and  walked  out  of  his  wigwam  stolidly,  though  with  apparent 
willingness. 

The  officer  was  led  to  believe  that  he  had  accomplished  a 
big  job  with  but  little  effort  and  was  mentally  congratulating 
himself  accordingly.  But  all  was  not  accomplished.  There  was 
much  yet  to  be  done.  He  felt  that  he  had  a  wide  and  wild 
stretch  of  country  to  cover  in  getting  home,  and  the  idea  of 
going  through  an  Indian  region  alone,  in  charge  of  a  half  In- 
dian, was  not  a  cheerful  one.    Not  by  any  means. 

When  Seminole  was  once  out  of  his  house  the  detective 
undertooiv  to  handcuff  him.    But  the  fellow  had  had  time  for  a 


142  THE  HAYWARD  MURDER. 

little  self-introspectiou  and  meditation.  The  Hayward  murder 
undoubtedly  came  into  bis  mind,  and  be  began  to  feel  tbat, 
whatever  the  charge  upon  which  be  was  to  be  brought  back  tc^ 
Denver,  he  would  be  in  danger  of  being  discovered  as  the  mur- 
derer, and  he  began  to  show  fight  at  the  sight  of  the  handcuffs. 
He  would  not  agree  to  have  them  put  on,  and  when  the  officer 
attempted  to  force  them  on,  struck  at  him.  He  was  a  strong 
man  and  able  to  get  the  best  of  the  officer  had  he  been  unaided. 
But  the  Indian  police  came  nobly  to  Ayres'  rescue,  and  they 
laid  Mr.  Seminole  low  in  very  short  order,  and  while  he  was 
prone  upon  the  ground  and  kicking  and  scratching,  the  irons 
were  adjusted.  The  scene  was  as  wild  a  one  in  the  interest  of 
justice  as  ever  fell  to  the  lot  of  man  to  witness. 

The  capture  was  now  completed,  and  one  of  the  murderers 
of  "old  man"  Hayward  was  in  the  hands  of  an  officer  of  the 
law,  though  on  a  dilferent  charge  and  far  away  from  the  scene 
of  the  tragedy  or  the  bounds  of  civilization. 

The  officer  found  that  on  September  29,  Seminole  had  sold 
his  stolen  bay  mare  to  an  Indian  chief  named  Woman's  Dress, 
giving  a  bill  of  sale,  and  signing  thereto  the  name  of  Joseph 
Leuischammesse,  which,  upon  being  compared  upon  arrival  at 
Denver  with  the  writing  of  the  order  to  the  proprietor  of  the 
Summit  house,  proved  that  it  was  written  by  the  same  hand, 
the  letters  being  formed  identically  alike.  The  other  man,  Tom 
Johnson,  as  he  is  still  called,  was  not  there. 

With  an  armed  escort  of  Sioux  Indians,  Ayres  started  back 
with  his  prisoner.  He  [carted  with  his  escort  at  Camp  Robin- 
son, and  at  Pine  BlutTs  boarded  a  freight  train,  and  took  up 
(quarters  in  the  caboose. 

About  3  o'clock  of  the  next  morning  after  taking  passage 
on  the  freight,  Mr.  Ayres  found  himself  minus  the  prisoner  to 
capture  whom  he  had  risked  so  much  and  undergone  so  many 
iiardships.  He  had  allowed  the  man  to  be  out  of  his  sight  for 
a  moment,  and  that  moment  had  been  embraced  by  the  fellow 
to  regain  his  liberty.  The  train  was  rattling  along  at  more  than 
ordinary  freight  train  speed,  so  that  Mr.  Ayres  did  not  dream 
of  the  handcufl'ed  man's  jumping  from  the  train.  But  Seminole 
was  a  man  who  dared  anything,  and  he  boldly  plunged  out  of 


THE  HAYWARD  MURDER.  245 

the  caboose  into  the  darkness,  and  was  once  more  free.  Mr. 
Ayres'  efforts  to  refind  his  man  proved  utterly  futile,  and  noth- 
ing was  left  to  him  but  to  notify  his  chief. 

A  great  deal  had  been  gained,  but  now  everything  seemed 
lost.  By  this  time  Cook  had  become  entirely  convinced  that 
Seminole,  or  Leuischammesse,  was  one  of  the  murderers  of 
Hayward,  and  for  that  reason  he  determined  to  leave  no  stone 
unturned  to  recover  his  man.  Consequently  the  matter  was 
again  placed  in  the  hands  of  Assistant  Superintendent  Carr,  and 
through  the  aid  of  the  telegraph  but  a  very  few  hours  had 
elapsed  when  there  were  no  less  than  fifteen  cowboys  scouring 
the  plains  under  the  leadership  of  Cattle  Detective  Cowles  in 
the  neighborhood  of  the  point  at  which  the  escape  was  made, 
and  in  nine  hours  from  the  time  of  the  escape  the  recapture 
had  been  effected. 

What  could  better  serve  to  show  the  complete  system  upon 
which  the  Kocky  Mountain  Detective  Association  is  organized? 

Without  further  incident  of  note,  the  wilv  rascal  was 
brought  to  Denver  and  taken  to  the  county  jail.  He  had  become 
moody  and  cross,  and  was  generally  pronounced  a  rough  cus- 
tomer by  those  with  whom  he  came  in  contact.  He  would  not 
talk  at  first  at  all.  It  was  evident  to  Gen.  Cook — who  had  kept 
his  suspicion  concerning  the  connection  of  Seminole  with  the 
Hayward  murder  to  himself,  even  up  to  that  time — that  the 
fellow  was  living  in  dread  of  having  his  identity  discovered. 
But  Cook  preserved  a  discreet  silence.  Mr.  Ayres  did  not  yet 
know  the  importance  of  the  arrest  which  he  had  made. 

As  soon  as  the  fellow  was  securely  locked  in,  Gen.  Cook 
sent  for  Mrs.  Hayward,  the  widow  of  the  murdered  man,  who 
was  brought  to  Denver  by  Detective  Hoyt  of  Golden.  Taking 
her  to  the  jail  building,  he  had  seven  or  eight  prisoners,  in- 
cluding Seminole,  and  all  of  them  corresponding  in  some  re- 
spects in  appearance  with  him,  placed  in  a  row  in  a  room. 

Into  this  room  Mrs.  Hayward  was  guided,  having  been  told 
what  was  expected  of  her,  namely,  that  she  should  have  an 
opportunity  to  identify  the  probable  murderer  of  her  husband. 
She  was  told  to  walk  along  the  line  in  which  Seminole  stood 
as  stolid  as  a  block  of  stone,  and  find  among  the  array,  if  she 


1^46  TH^  HAYWARD  MURDER. 

could,  the  guilty  party.  She  passed  rapidly  down  the  line,  look- 
ing at  one  man  at  a  time,  without  stopping  to  hesitate,  until 
she  came  to  Seminole,  when,  getting  a  full  view  of  him,  she 
threw  up  her  hands  and  exclaimed: 

"My  God  I  that's  the  man.  Take  him  away  from  me  I" 
The  identification  was  positive,  and  was  a  death  blow  to 
the  half  breed's  hopes.  Besides  this,  he  was  identified  by 
Brown  &  Marr,  by  Dr.  Burr,  and  others,  so  that  no  doubt  as 
to  his  identity  could  by  any  possibility  be  entertained.  Seeing 
that  he  was  in  for  i(,  Seminole  made  a  full  confession. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

SEMINOLE'S  CONFESSION— HE  FURNISHES  GEN.  COOK  WITH  A  VALU- 
ABLE CLUE  AS  TO  WOODRUFF'S  WHEREABOUTS— DETECTIVES 
HAWLEV  AND  AYRES  ON  THE  TRAIL— THE  WRONG  MAN,  BUT  A 
CRIMINAL  ALL  THE  SAME,  TAKEN  AFTER  MUCH  HARDSHIP— AGAIN 
ON  WOODRUFF'S  TRAIL— HE  IS  TRACKED  TO  THE  MISSOURI  VAL- 
LEY BY  MFJ.  HAWLEY  AND  TAKEN  AT  THE  MUZZLE  OF  A  SHOT- 
GUN—THE CRIMINAL  IS  RETURNED  TO  DENVER  AND  THOR- 
OUGHLY   IDENTIFIED. 

While  Seminole  was  in  jail  here,  Detective  Cook  determined 
to  obtain  from  him  some  information  which  would  lead  to  the 
apprehension  of  Woodruff,  of  whom  all  trace  had  now  been  lost. 
He  accordingly  sent  a  detective  to  the  jail  in  response  to  Semi- 
nole's request  for  a  lawyer,  and  who,  while  professing  to  be  a 
legal  adviser,  obtained  from  Seminole  all  he  knew  of  his  compan- 
ion in  crime  and  the  particulars  of  the  murder.  He  stated  that 
while  riding  with  Mr.  Hayward  they  rode  behind,  the  old  man  in 
front,  driving;  that  Johnson  suddenly  clutched  Hay  ward  about 
the  throat  and  choked  him  to  death,  while  he,  Seminole,  took  the 
lines  and  handled  the  horses;  that  the  breakage  of  the  neck  was 
occasioned  when  they  heaved  the  body  out  of  the  wagon  when 
about  to  shove  him  under  the  little  bridge  where  it  was  found; 
that  at  half-past  ten  the  same  night,  they  drove  the  wagon  and 
mules  into  Denver  and  put  up  at  the  Western  barn ;  that  in  the 
morning  they  took  the  outfit  around  to  Paul  «&  Strickler's,  on 
Fifteenth  street,  and  tried  to  have  it  sold  at  auction,  but  learning 
that  the  sale  would  not  take  place  until  afternoon,  they  went 
back  to  the  barn,  and  finally  sold  it  to  a  Leadville  teamster  for 
$190,  Woodruff  giving  the  bill  of  sale  and  signing  the  name 
Thomas  Logan  to  it;  that  they  then  went  to  Brown  &  Marr's 
and  hired  the  buggy  and  mares,  and  followed  exactly  the  route 
as  traced,  and  that  at  Sidney  bridge  they  separated,  Woodruff 
going  to  the  right,  in  the  direction  of  the  Niobrara  river,  while 
he  kept  straight  on  to  the  Pine  Ridge  agency,  where  he  was  cap- 
tured. 


148 


THE  HAYWARD  MURDER. 


As  to  bis  companion,  Seminole  said  his  right  name  was 
Woodruff,  though  he  had  been  known  only  as  Tom  Johnson  in 
Colorado.  He  knew  that  Woodruff  was  a  stonecutter  by  trade, 
and  that  he  had  been  pardoned  out  of  the  Wyoming  penitentiary 
after  serving  three  years  for  killing  a  man  named  John  Friehl, 
with  whose  wife  Woodruff  had  been  too  intimate.  The  fellow 
gave  a  complete  description  of  Woodruff,  and  seemed  decidedly 
reckless  as  to  whether  his  companion  in  crime  should  be  caught 
or  not.  He  made  his  confession  in  a  cold-blooded  manner,  and 
gave  no  reason  for  the  murder  of  Hay  ward,  except  that  they 
wanted  his  team,  and  thought  it  would  be  best  to  have  the 
owner  conveniently  hidden  away  while  they  were  carrying  for- 
ward their  operations  in  Denver  and  getting  out  of  the  country. 

Gen.  Cook  concluded  that  the  best  place  to  look  for  Wood- 
ruff was  the  place  at  which  he  had  last  been  seen  by  Seminole, 
and  consequently  sent  detectives  to  the  Niobrara  region.  This 
time  Mr.  Ayres,  who  had  captured  Seminole,  was  sent  out,  and 
was  accompanied  by  Mr.  C.  A.  Hawley,  who,  being  one  of  the 
most  courageous  as  well  as  one  of  the  shrewdest  members  of  the 
association,  was  selected  for  this  task,  because  it  was  believed 
that  there  would  be  some  lively  work  in  arresting  Woodruff,  who 
was  known  to  be  desperate  as  well  as  cunning. 

"But  you  must  get  him,  Hawley,"  said  Cook  to  his  deputy 
when  he  left.  ''I  trust  the  work  to  you,  and  expect'you  to  do  it 
up  in  good  shape." 

"If  he  is  to  be  had,  you  can  depend  on  me,"  said  Hawley.  "I 
am  ready  for  him  and  go  to  find  him." 

'The  two  detectives  made  the  trip  to  Niobrara  with  all  pos- 
sible haste.  When  they  arrived  there  they  began  to  look  around 
for  their  man.  One  day  when  they  came  close  upon  an  individual 
who  answered  the  general  description  of  Woodruff,  that  individ- 
ual, finding  that  he  was  closely  watched  by  the  officers,  and  sus- 
pecting them  to  be  officers,  jumped  on  his  horse  and  rode  off  at  a 
lively  gait.  Inquiry  revealed  the  fact  that  this  man  was  known 
as  Tom  Johnson.  They  felt  convinced  that  he  was  the  man  that 
they  wanted,  and  they  went  after  him  with  all  possible  haste. 
A  wild  chase  he  led  them,  too,  over  the  uninhabited  country  of 
western  Nebraska.    Knowing  the  lay  of  the  land  better  than  the 


THE  HAYWARD  MURDER.  ^49 

officers  did,  he  was  able  to  evade  them  for  a  long  time,  and  at  the 
end  of  a  week  of  as  hard  work  as  often  falls  to  the  lot  of  detec- 
tives, they  overtook  and  captured  him. 

After  taking  the  fellow,  they  had  doubts  as  to  whether  he 
was  the  man  they  were  seeking;  but  concluded  that  a  man  who 
would  act  as  suspiciousl}'  as  he  had  been  acting  must  be  guilty  of 
some  crime,  and  whether  it  was  that  of  the  murder  of  the  Colo- 
rado ranchman,  or  some  other,  mattered  little  to  them.  IIen(;e 
they  determined  to  bag  him  and  to  bring  him  to  Denver,  which 
determination  they  put  into  execution,  landing  here  with  him 
near  the  middle  of  November.  The  fellow  proved  not  to  be 
Woodruff,  but  it  was  soon  ascertained  that  he  was  a  fugitive 
from  justice  from. Omaha,  where  he  had  been  guilty  of  horse 
stealing;  and  it  may  be  remarked  in  passing,  that  he  was  sent 
to  that  city  and  tried,  and  that  he  had  to  serve  out  a  seven- 
years'  sentence  in  the  penitentiary  of  Nebraska,  Thus  the  officers 
only  brought  down  the  wrong  game  when  they  fired,  though  they 
did  not  waste  their  ammunition,  Shakespeare  tells  us  that  con- 
science makes  cowards  of  us  all.  Johnson's  conscience  certainly 
put  him  behind  the  bars  at  Lincoln  City. 

This  episode  did  not  delay  matters  a  great  deal.  Gen.  Cook 
had  been  on  the  qui  rive  while  his  officers  were  out,  and  had 
learned  that  Woodruff  had  relatives  living  either  in  Iowa  or  east- 
ern Nebraska,  and  he  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the  fugitive 
murderer  would  most  likely  fly  to  them  for  protection  and  to  es- 
cape detection.  The  sequel  will  prove  that  in  this  case,  as  in  most 
others  where  he  forms  a  theory  as  -to  the  conduct  of  fugitive 
criminals,  he  was  right.  Hence  he  decided  to  send  Hawley  to 
look  up  Woodruff's  relatives,  with  the  hope  of  also  finding  Wood- 
ruff. He  had  heard  that  they  resided  in  the  country  before  Haw- 
ley started,  and  suggested  to  him  that  it  would  be  a  good  idea 
for  him  to  play  the  role  of  a  granger,  in  case  it  would  serve  his 
purpose.  It  was  also  decided  to  make  the  most  of  the  capture 
of  Johnson,  the  story  of  which  was  published  in  the  newspapers 
in  such  a  way  as  to  lead  to  the  inference  that  Johnson  was  the 
man  wanted,  the  belief  being  that  Woodruff  would  see  the  papers, 
and  seeing  this  article,  would  conclude  that  the  officers  had  been 


150 


THE  HAYWARD  MURDER. 


outwitted  and  taken  the  wrong  man.  he  would  become  careless, 
and  hence  be  all  the  more  easily  come  up  with. 

While  the  people  were  reading  the  story  of  Johnson's  cap- 
ture, the  next  morning  after  his  arrival  from  Niobrara,  believing 
that  the  murderer  had  really  been  overtaken,  Hawley  was  pre- 
paring to  start  upon  a  second  excursion  in  search  of  that  indi- 
vidual. He  again  started  out  to  find  his  man.  This  time  he  did 
find  him,  "and  no  foolinV'  either. 

There  was  one  important  point  to  be  gained  in  making  the 
search.  No  one  knew  definitely  where  Woodruff's  relatives  lived, 
though  they  were  known  to  be  residents  of  the  vicinity  of  Council 
Bluffs  or  Omaha. 

Going  first  to  Omaha,  and  then  crossing  the  Missouri  to 
Council  Bluffs,  the  detective  took  a  train  on  the  Chicago,  Burling- 
ton and  Quincy  railroad  and  went  down  the  road  about  fifty 
miles,  keeping  his  eyes  and  ears  widely  open  in  the  hope  of  get- 
ting the  slightest  trace  of  the  party  he  was  after;  and  then,  dis- 
gusted, returned  to  Council  Bluffs  and  went  to  his  hotel.  From  a 
man  whom  he  met  there  he  learned  that  James  W.  Woodruff, 
known  to  a  brother  of  Sam,  lived  at  Big  Grove,  thirty  miles  dis- 
tant. 

Disguising  himself  as  a  granger,  he  got  a  pony  and  a  letter 
from  Mr.  Phelps,  of  the  Ogden  hotel,  to  his  foreman,  Walter  Far- 
well,  on  his  stock  ranch,  near  the  house  of  the  Woodruff's,  and 
started  off.  The  stock  ranch  was  about  twenty-eight  and  a  half 
miles  from  Council  Bluffs,  and  here  Hawley  hired  out  as  a  corn- 
busker,  and  went  to  work.  James  Woodruff's  place  w^as  about  a 
mile  and  a  half  further  on. 

Hawley  passed  under  the  name  of  Charles  Albert,  and  after 
working  one  day  at  corn-husking,  prevailed  upon  the  foreman  to 
send  him  out,  the  following  morning,  looking  for  lost  stock.  It 
must  be  mentioned  that  while  husking  corn,  the  detective  was 
incidentally  told  by  Mr.  Farwell  of  the  late  arrival  of  a  brother 
of  James  Woodruff,  said  to  be  direct  from  the  Black  Hills,  and 
with  a  |1),000  bank  account  in  Deadwood.  He  had  been  home  but 
ten  days,  and  Hawley  shrewdly  suspected  that  this  brother  was 
the  Samuel  he  was  after.  So  in  the  course  of  his  rambles  about 
after  lost  stock,  he  stopped  at  the  Woodruff  farm,  and  learned 


THE  HAYWARD  MURDER.  |5| 

that  they  had  moved  into  the  town  of  Big  Grove.  The  officer 
thereupon  circled  and  rode  into  the  little  village  from  the  (;ast, 
and  spotted  the  Woodruff  house,  returning  immediately  there- 
after to  Phelps'  stock  place. 

After  unsaddling  his  pony  and  getting  something  to  eal,  he 
started  for  Council  Bluffs,  leaving  at  about  11  in  the  morning 
and  arriving  at  about  4  in  the  afternoon.  Here,  on  the  25th 
of  November,  he  swore  out  a  warrant  for  the  arrest  of  Samuel 
Woodruff,  before  Justice  Baird,  and  securing  the  services  of  Con- 
stable Theodore  Guiltar,  they  took  a  two-seated  buggy,  and  at 
10  that  night  started  for  the  stock  farm  again,  getting  there 
about  3  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  seeking  the  barn  for  rest. 
But  two  hours  later  they  were  rudely  awakened  by  an  attendant, 
who  didn't  '^sabe"  the  presence  of  two  rough-looking  tramps. 

After  feeding  their  horses  and  obtaining  breakfast,  they 
drove  down  to  Big  Grove,  and  leaving  their  team  concealed  in  the 
bushes  on  the  outskirts,  walked  into  the  town.  They  noticed 
their  man  at  work  near  the  Woodruff  house,  but  as  soon  as  he 
saw  the  two  strangers  he  stopped  his  labors  and  went  within. 
The  officers  then  walked  on  down  to  the  store  of  a  Mr.  Freeman, 
and  while  llawley  talked  about  the  chances  of  getting  work  on 
the  railroad,  his  companion  went  out  and  borrowed  a  double-bar- 
reled shot  gun. 

The  detective  discharged  both  barrels  out  of  the  back  door, 
and  then  carefully  loaded  the  weapon  with  a  handful  of  buckshot 
in  each  barrel,  stating  to  Guittar  that  it  meant  "death  to  either 
himself  or  Woodruff',"  in  case  of  an  escape  or  failure  to  capture. 
A  little  later  James  W^oodruff,  the  brother,  came  driving  down 
the  street,  and  hitched  his  team  a  short  distance  from  Freeman's 
store;  and,  coming  up  to  the  latter  place,  began  a  series  of  ques- 
tioning and  re-(iuestioning,  evidently  endeavoring  to  pump  the 
disguised  detective;  however,  with  little  success. 

I'erhaps  an  hour  was  consumed  in  this  manner,  and  then  he 
left,  and  a  few^  minutes  later  Hawley  saw  the  two  Woodruffs  com- 
ing down  the  street  together.  James  carried  an  axe  and  Sam  a 
revolver. 

The  detective  pulled  back  the  hammers  of  his  shot  gun,  and 
watched  the  men  through  the  window. 


152 


THE  HAYWARD  MURDER. 


As  they  neared  the  store,  Hawley  stepped  out,  apparently 
closely  examining  something  about  the  locks  of  his  weapon,  and 
when  the  brothers  reached  the  store,  the  officer  brought  the  gun 
to  his  shoulder  and  said: 

"Sam  Woodruff,  throw  up  j^our  hands;  I  want  you." 
Quick  as  a  flash  the  desperado's  fist  sought  his  revolver.    But 
the  cool,  quiet  tones  of  the  officer,  "Pull  that  pistol  one  inch,  and 
I'll  blow  daylight  through  you,"  caused  him  to  let  go  his  grip  and 
throw  up  his  hands  above  his  head. 

Constable  Guittar  then  applied  the  handcuffs  and  shackles, 
and  disarmed  the  man,  and  he  was  immediately  marched  down 
the  street  a  little  way,  while  a  boy  was  sent  after  the  officers' 
team.  The  brother,  James,  attempted  a  few  demonstrations,  but 
Hawley's  revolver,  cocked  and  held  in  position,  quieted  his  ardor. 

Five  minutes  later,  and  the  officers  and  their  prisoner  were 
driving  towards  Council  Bluffs  at  full  speed,  and  as  soon  as  iden- 
tified by  Justice  Baird  and  turned  over  to  Hawley,  he  was  taken 
to  Omaha  and  there  lodged  in  jail. 

Hawley,  being  out  of  funds,  now  telegraphed  Sheriff  Cook 
for  money,  and  though  instantly  forwarded,  through  some  red- 
tapeism  of  the  telegraph  company  he  was  delayed  until  too  late 
to  catch  the  train  of  that  day.  On  the  next,  however,  the  detec- 
tive and  his  prisoner  left,  reaching  Cheyenne  on  the  29th  at  1 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  Before  starting,  the  officer  telegraphed 
Sheriff  Gregg  at  Fremont,  and  Sheriff  Con.  Groner  of  North 
Platte,  to  meet  him  for  the  purpose  of  identification  of  his  pris- 
oner. This  these  officers  did,  and  fully  identified  the  man  as 
Samuel  Woodruff'.  At  North  Platte,  in  addition  to  the  sheriff, 
Martin  Oberst,  night  clerk  of  the  Railroad  hotel,  recognized  him 
as  having  stopped  at  the  house  two  or  three  weeks  before,  when 
he  signed  his  correct  name.  At  Cheyenne  he  was  further  iden- 
tified by  the  sheriff,  and  T.  Jeff  Carr  of  the  detective  association, 
and  upon  arrival  in  Denver,  the  next  day,  Mr.  Hunter,  who  was 
in  the  city  on  business,  recognized  him  as  having  stopped  at  his 
ranch  on  the  Niobrara  river,  on  or  about  the  18th  of  September. 

When  brought  to  the  sheriff's  office,  Woodruff  refused  to  say 
anything,  though  on  the  journey  he  had  denied  all  knowledge  of 


THE  HAYWARD  MURDER.  I55 

the  murder.  He  was  driven  over  to  the  jail,  and  his  copartner 
in  crime,  Joseph  Seminole,  brought  into  his  presence. 

''Hello,  Clarke,"  was  Woodruff's  exclamation,  "what  are  you 
doing  here?" 

To  this  Seminole  merely  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

''I  used  to  know  that  man  as  Clarke  when  we  were  together 
in  the  penitentiary  at  Laramie  City,"  Woodruff  added,  explan- 
atorily, to  the  officers. 

And  with  this  these  two  scoundrels  were  locked  up  in  separ- 
ate cells.  One  thing  worthy  of  note  was  that  Seminole's  descrip- 
tion of  the  revolver  carried  by  Woodruff  tallied  exactly  with  the 
weapon  which  Woodruff  wore  when  arrested. 

Much  of  the  above  is  taken  from  the  Denver  Tribune,  as  told 
its  reporter  by  the  detectives.  At  this  stage  of  the  proceedings 
the  Tribune  was  led  to  remark:  "To  the  Rocky  Mountain  De- 
tective Agency  a  great  deal  of  credit  is  deservedly  due  for  the 
able  and  persistent  manner  in  which  this  matter  has  been  worked 
up,  and  this  final  capture  had  added  increased  lustre  to  the  rep- 
utation already  borne  by  this  excellent  organization.  To  D.  J. 
Cook,  C.  A.  Hawley,  W.  W.  Ayres,  Joe  Arnold,  T.  J.  Carr  and 
C.  P.  Hoyt,  the  officers  who  have  worked  up  the  affair,  special 
honor  is  due.  They  have  been  untiring  in  their  efforts,  and  un- 
sparing in  their  expenditures,  and  now  have  the  pleasure  of  see- 
ing total  success  crown  their  labors.  Officers  Cook  and  Arnold 
have  secured  the  wagon  that  belonged  to  the  murdered  man  from 
a  Mr.  Todd,  in  Douglas  country,  and  will  soon  have  the  mules." 

On  the  3d  of  December,  three  days  after  Woodruff's  arrival 
in  the  city,  Mrs.  Hayward  and  her  two  daughters,  Minnie  and 
Cora,  aged  then  thirteen  and  fifteen,  respectively,  arrived  in  the 
city,  accompanied  by  Detective  Hoyt,  of  Golden,  and  proceeded 
to  the  jail  to  identify  the  prisoner.  When  all  was  ready,  Wood- 
ruff was  brought  from  his  cell  into  the  parlor  of  the  jail.  Mrs. 
Hayward  sat  upon  the  sofa  facing  the  door,  Cora  on  her  left 
and  Minnie  on  the  right.  Sheriff  Cook  stood  at  the  head  of 
the  sofa,  and  the  other  officials  near  the  windows  and  the  door. 
As  Woodruff  entered  the  room,  he  shot  one  glance  out  of  his 
dark  eyes  at  the  visitor  on  the  sofa,  and  then  dropped  them, 
never  again  raising  them  during  the  remainder  of  the  inter- 


]i  5(5  THE  HAYWAKD  MURDER. 

view  except  once,  and  then  to  reply  to  a  question.  His  nervous- 
ness was  quite  apparent,  the  trembling  and  twitching  of  his 
hands  being  very  perceptible. 

A  moment's  silence,  after  he  had  taken  his  seat,  and  then 
Mrs.  Hay  ward  said: 

"Minnie,  is  that  the  man?" 

''Yes,"  was  the  positive  and  quick  reply  of  the  little  girl, 
never  raising  her  eyes  from  the  close  scrutiny  with  which  she 
had  regarded  the  prisoner  from  his  entrance. 

"You  are  sure  he  is  the  man,"  continued  Mrs.  Hayward,  and 
the  answer  was  as  quick  and  as  positive  as  before. 

The  other  daughter,  Cora,  now  spoke.  "I  know  that  is  the 
man,"  she  said,  and  the  mother,  turning  to  Sheriff  Cook,  said 
slowly:    "Yes,  that  is  the  man — there  is  no  mistake." 

At  this  moment  Joseph  Seminole  was  brought  into  the 
room.  "And  there  is  the  other,"  said  Mrs.  Hayward — the  two 
daughters  agreeing  in  like  words.  Then  Gen.  Cook  asked  Wood- 
ruff if  he  desired  to  ask  any  questions  to  test  the  visitors'  be- 
lief, and  received  the  reply,  "My  lawyer  will  do  my  talking." 

There  was  no  longer  any  room  for  doubt.  The  two  scoun- 
drels who  had  killed  -an  innocent  man  and  who  had  led  the 
officers  such  a  chase  as  few  criminals  before  or  since  their  time 
ever  did,  had  been  overtaken  by  the  Rocky  Mountain  Detective 
Association.  It  had  been  a  long  but  a  successful  chase.  They 
had  been  taken  and  securely  locked  in  the  Arapahoe  county 
jail,  where  they  had  been  fully  identified  and  where  they 
awaited  orders  from  the  Jefferson  county  authorities. 


CHAPTEE  XX. 

STIRRING  CLOSE  OF  THE  HAYWARD  STORY— SEMINOLE  AND  WOOD- 
RUFF TAKEN  TO  GOLDEN  AND  LODGED  IN  JAIL— VISIT  OF  THE 
GRANGER  VIGILANTES,  WHO  CELEBRATE  CHRISTMAS  BY  H/^NG- 
ING  THE  MURDERERS  OF  THEIR  LATE  NEIGHBOR— DYING  STATE- 
MENTS OF  THE  TWO  MEN— TRAGIC  END  OF  A  TRAGIC  STORY. 

The  last  chapter  of  this  somewhat  remarkable  story  at  last 
opens.  It  is,  if  anything,  the  most  thrilling  of  the  series,  as  it 
relates  the  tragic  end  of  the  tMO  men  who  have  figured  in  these 
pages  to  considerable  length,  and  with  whom  we  began  when 
we  left  Middle  park  in  August  of  1879.  It  is  now  December 
28  of  the  same  year,  and  the  story  is  drawing  to  its  close.  Over 
three  months  have  elapsed  since  Mr.  Hay  ward,  the  quiet  citizen 
and  loving  father  and  husband,  was  killed  by  these  villains, 
but  his  neighbors,  who  knew  him  and  appreciated  his  worth, 
had  not  forgotten  the  horror  of  the  crime,  nor  allowed  the  pass- 
ing days  to  carry  with  them  their  desire  to  avenge  the  great 
wrong  that  had  been  committed. 

The  scene  is  now  laid  at  Golden.  Gen.  Cook,  for  the 
Rocky  Mountain  Detective  Association,  had  taken  the  murderers 
to  Golden,  that  being  the  county  seat  of  Jefferson  county,  on  the 
9th  of  December,  and  hearing  that  there  was  a  likelihood  of 
an  effort  being  made  to  lynch  the  scamps,  took  precautions  to 
prevent  such  a  result.  It  had  long  been  his  boast  that  no  pris- 
oner had  ever  been  taken  from  his  hands  and  lynched,  and  he 
did  not  propose  to  have  his  creditable  reputation  blackened  now. 
He  was  fully  prepared  to  meet  any  attempt  upon  the  lives  of 
the  men  that  might  be  made,  and  appreciating  the  sort  of  man 
they  were  dealing  with,  the  Jefferson  vigilantes  wisely  decided 
to  await  "a  more  convenient  season"  for  the  putting  into  execu- 
tion of  any  designs  they  might  have.  The  prisoners  feared 
lynching,  and  trembled  when  Cook  and  his  party  left  them 
after  they  had  been  identified  and  placed  in  jail.  Woodruff 
said:     "I  fear  those  old  farmers  who  were  Hay  ward's  neigh- 


158  THE  HAY  WARD  MURDER. 

bors.     They  are  a  f>reat  deal  more  determined  and  bitter  than 
miners." 

His  fears  were  well  founded.  The  dreadful  hour  came 
shortly  after  midnight  on  the  cool,  crisp  Sunday  morninfj  of 
Christmas  week  of  '79. 

A  few  minutes  before  12  o'clock  Saturday  night  the  late 
habitues  of  saloons  and  billiard  halls,  as  well  as  others  who 
happened  to  be  awake  at  that  hour,  noticed  the  riding  along 
the  principal  street  of  numerous  horsemen,  who  came  from  ap- 
parently all  directions  and  iu  little  squads  of  two,  three,  half 
a  dozen  or  so.  They  noticed  that  these  silent  horsemen  all 
rode  toward  the  jail,  and  all  seemed  to  be  intent  on  some 
urgent  business.  Then,  remembering  the  oft-repeated  murmurs 
of  lynching  made  against  the  imprisoned  murderers  of  poor  old 
Hayward,  a  number  of  citizens  followed  in  the  wake  of  the 
strangers,  who  made  at  the  jail  a  cavalcade  of  at  least  a  hun- 
dred men,  armed  to  the  teeth  and  grimly  seated  upon  their 
horses,  not  even  talking  or  whispering  among  themselves. 

A  consultation  between  the  chief  and  his  lieutenants  took 
place  upon  the  steps  leading  to  the  first  floor  above  the  base- 
ment of  the  court  house,  and  a  few  minutes  later,  without  noise 
or  confusion,  a  large  circle  of  guards  was  spread  around  the  jail 
and  some  two  or  three  hundred  yards  distant  from  it.  These  grim . 
sentinels  were  but  a  few  paces  apart,  and  some  were  mounted 
and  some  on  foot.  Every  member  of  this  avenging  band  wore 
a  mask,  or  a  handkerchief  across  the  face,  or  had  his  features 
blackened  with  burnt  cork,  so  that  recognition  was  absolutely 
impossible.  No  one  was  permitted  to  pass  this  cordon  of  guards, 
no  matter  what  the  excuse.  One  man  climbed  a  telegraph  pole 
and  the  telephone  wire  from  the  jail  was  cut,  and  thus  all  com- 
munication to  and  from  the  building  was  ended.  Then  the 
horses  were  ridden  to  a  vacant  lot  opposite  and  tied,  while  the 
riders  dismounted  and  closed  in  upon  the  jail.  There  was  no 
noise  or  confusion.  Everything  had  been  carefully  planned,  and 
every  man  had  a  certain  position  and  a  certain  duty  assigned, 
and  he  silently  took  the  one  and  performed  the  other. 

There  Avere  in  the  building,  aside  from  the  prisoners  in  the 
cells,  Under  Sheriff  Joseph  Boyd,  who  was  asleep  with  his  fam- 


THE  HAYWAllD  MURDER.  159 

ily  in  a  rear  room,  and  an  extra  watchman,  Edgar  Cox,  who 
was  lying  upon  a  bench  in  the  sheriff's  office.  Hearing  the 
sound  of  feet  on  the  frozen  earth  outside,  Cox  rose  to  a  sitting 
position  and  looked  up  at  the  windows,  the  curtains  of  which 
were  raised.  At  each  window  he  saw,  to  his  stupefaction,  two 
or  three  men,  who  had  rifles  in  their  hands.  Their  gleaming 
barrels  pointed  directly  at  him,  and  a  stern  voice  simply  said: 

"Don't  move,  or  you'll  get  hurt." 

Under  the  circumstances  Cox  did  not  move,  but  sat  gazing 
at  the  deadly  weapons  which  so  steadily  and  unrelentingly 
covered  him,  while  he  could  hear  the  heavy  tramp  of  men  march- 
ing in  at  the  front  door  and  filing  down  the  inside  stairs  to 
the  basement. 

This  same  tramp,  tramp  of  many  feet,  foretelling  something 
unusual,  reached  the  ears  of  Under  Sheriff"  Boyd,  who  was  in 
bed,  and  he  suddenly  awoke  with  the  feeling  that  there  was 
trouble  ahead.  Hastily  pulling  on  his  clothes  he  rushed  out 
of  his  room,  and  saw  the  two  rooms  from  which  the  two  doors 
open  into  the  jail  part,  teeming  with  masked  and  armed  men, 
who  apparently  paid  no  attention  to  him  whatever.  As  he 
passed  the  ''feeding"  door — so  termed  because  through  this  the 
prisoners'  meals  are  taken  in  to  them — he  noticed  that  the  outer 
wooden  door  was  splintered  and  the  lock  broken  off.  Pushing 
his  way  through  to  the  front  room,  he  mounted  to  the  third 
step  of  the  stairs  leading  to  the  first  floor,  and  raising  his 
voice,  said: 

''Gentlemen,  listen  to  me  one  moment.  You  are,  or  I  take 
jou  to  be,  law-abiding  and  law-loving  citizens,  and  yet  you  are 
now  engaged  in  unlawful  proceedings.  I  beg  of  you  to  cease, 
and  not  in  your  indignation  or  passionate  feelings  take  the  law 
into  your  own  hands.  Rest  assured  justice  will  be  obtained, 
oven  though  it  take  a  little  longer." 

At  this  juncture  three  men  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  piilled 
their  revolvers  and  covered  the  speaker,  while  one  said: 

"Hands  up.  sir — we  know  our  business." 

To  which  Boyd  replied: 

"I'll  not  hold  up  my  mands.  I  know  you  have  not  come 
here  to  harm  me,"  and  recommenced  his  expostulation  and  en- 
treatv  to  the  men  in  front  of  him. 


2(30  THE  HAYWARD  MURDER. 

In  the  meantime,  a  number  of  the  vigilantes  had  attacked 
the  iron-grated  door  with  sledge  hammers  and  crowbars.  Every 
blow  told,  and  sinewy  and  muscular  arms  sent  the  heavy  in- 
struments to  the  points  where  they  would  do  the  most  good. 

The  under  sheriff  still  continued  his  address  to  the  men, 
and  finally  the  leader,  a  tall,  well-built  man,  ordered  three  of 
his  fellows  to  take  Boyd  into  custody  and  remove  him.  They 
instantly  complied  and  the  officer  was  taken  into  the  inner 
room,  where  he  still  continued  his  protestations.  The  blows  fell 
thick  and  fast  upon  the  great  strong  lock  and  at  last  with  a 
crash  it  gave  way  and  the  door  swung  open,  and  those  terrible, 
determined  men  swarmed  within. 

Previous  to  all  this  the  prisoners  were  sound  asleep  in  their 
cells,  save  one,  Joseph  Murphy,  in  for  petty  larceny  and  who 
was  out  of  his  cell,  being  on  duty  in  keeping  up  the  fire  and 
such  other  little  chores  as  might  be  necessary. 

As  the  assault  began  upon  the  bolts  of  the  iron  door.  Wood- 
ruff awoke  with  a  start,  and  sprang  to  the  grating  of  his  cell, 
where  he  glared  in  tremulous  anxiety  upon  the  bars  that  were 
trembling  beneath  the  rain  of  blows.  Seminole,  too,  awoke 
about  the  same  time,  and  began  a  low  moaning  in  his  terrible 
fear,  though  he  did  not  arise  from  his  bed,  but  as  the  door  at 
last  gave  way,  and  the  crowd  rushed  in,  he  gave  vent  to  a 
cry  which  is  described  as  being  more  like  the  shriek  of  some 
wild  animal  than  any  other  noise. 

Without  loss  of  time  the  vigilantes  attacked  the  padlocks 
on  cells  fourteen  and  twelve,  the  former  being  Woodruff's  and 
the  latter  Seminole's.  Noticing  the  liberty  of  Murphy,  and  sup- 
posing that  he  might  attempt  to  escape  in  the  confusion,  the 
leader  of  these  midnight  dispensers  of  justice  went  to  Boyd, 
who  was  still  under  guard,  and  told  him  he  had  better  lock  up 
such  prisoners  as  might  be  loose. 

"W^ill  you  pledge  your  word  of  honor  for  yourself  and  men 
that  you  will  not  touch  the  keys  if  I  get  them?"  asked  the 
faithful  official. 

"Yes,"  was  the  brief  but  evidently  earnest  reply. 

Calling  the  watchman.  Cox,  and  accompanied  still  by  his 
masked  guard,  Boyd  went  to  the  vault  and  began  to  work  the 


THE  HAYWARD  MURDER.  1(31 

combination  that  opened  it.    Before  giving  the  last  twist,  how- 
ever, he  turned  to  his  silent  captors,  and  said: 

"You  have  heard  the  pledge  given  by  your  captain,  or 
chief,  or  whatever  you  call  him,  in  relation  to  the  keys;  have  1 
your  words  of  honor  also?" 

They  bowed  a  grim  assent,  and  a  moment  later  the  bolt 
shot  back  and  the  iron  door  turned  on  its  hinges.  Taking  the 
keys  the  official  entered  the  jail  and  locked  Murphy  up.  As 
he  passed  the  cells  containing  two  burglars^  they  begged  to 
be  released,  fearing  lest  the  vigilantes  would  also  make  an 
example  of  them.  Boyd  assured  them  that  they  would  not 
be  harmed,  or  at  least  he  would  do  all  in  his  power  to  protect 
them. 

In  the  meantime  cold  chisels  had  cut  into  the  cell  pad- 
locks, and  sledge  hammers  completed  the  job.  Woodruff  was 
on  his  feet  and  showed  fight,  but  his  visitors  were  determined 
men,  and  the  cold-blooded  murderer  was  soon  rendered  docile, 
a  few  raps  with  the  butt  of  a  revolver  being  administered  on 
the  top  of  his  head.  He  was  carried  out  and  laid  upon  his 
stomach  on  the  floor,  his  face  resting  upon  his  left  side,  while 
skillful  and  willing  hands  bound  his  wrists  together  behind  his 
back.  As  he  was  being  taken  from  his  cell  he  made  but  one 
remark  : 

"Gentlemen,  you  are  mistaken.  I  am  innocent  of  this 
crime." 

When  the  tying  was  completed  he  was  lifted  up  to  a  sitting 
posture  and  asked  for  the  captain,  referring  to  Boyd,  and  that 
officer  immediately  came  forward. 

Laying  hand  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  prisoner,  Boyd  said: 

"Well,  Woodruff,  what  can  I  do  for  you?" 

Woodruff  raised  his  dark  eyes  to  the  kindly  face  above 
him,  and  with  a  low  voice,  inexpressibly  sad  and  full  of  feel- 
ing, said: 

"Captain,  w-rite  to  my  wife — and  to  my  brother,  and  tell 
them  all  about  this,  will  you?  Don't  forget  it.  Write  to  (and 
a  name  was  given  which  the  officer  forgets)  and  tell  him  to 
avenge  my  death — he'll  do  it." 


1^2  '^'HE  HAYWARD  MURDEIJ. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  said,  turning  to  his  captors,  "this  is  not 
the  last  of  this." 

Then  Boyd  said:    "Is  that  all  I  can  do  for  you,  Sam?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  prisoner,  "all — all." 

During  all  this  time  the  men  had  been  hammering  away  at 
Seminole's  cell,  and  as  Woodruff  finished  speaking,  the  door 
was  opened  and  a  number  of  men  sprang  within.  Seminole  was 
lying  upon  his  face  moaning  fearfully  in  his  terror.  He  was 
quickly  picked  up  and  carried  out,  and  his  hands  bound  behind 
him  in  like  manner  to  Woodruff's. 

Without  further  hesitation  or  delay  and  in  perfect  silence 
the  prisoners,  the  manacles  on  their  ankles  clanking  a  dismal 
dead  march,  were  taken  out  through  the  front  door  of  the 
basement  and  taken  in  the  direction  of  the  Golden  and  South 
Platte  railroad,  three  or  four  hundred  vards  distant.  Woodruff 
refused  to  walk,  and  was  half  carried  and  half  pushed,  but 
Seminole  did  what  he  could  in  the  way  of  locomotion,  and  in 
a  few  minutes  the  men  were  on  the  railroad  bridge  that  crosses 
Kinney  creek. 

The  bridge  is  a  timber  one,  having  three  spans,  supported 
on  spiles  resting  on  wooden  foundations.  A  rope  three-eighths 
of  an  inch  in  diameter  was  produced,  which  was  supposed  to 
be  long  enough  to  hang  both  men,  but  being  found  too  short,  a 
delay  occurred  while  a  new  one,  an  inch  in  diameter,  was  ob- 
tained. Woodruff  was  stationed  on  the  end  nearest  Denver,  and 
Seminole  just  five  sleepers  further  away.  With  nooses  about 
their  necks,  the  other  ends  of  the  ropes  being  fastened  to  the 
projecting  ends  of  the  timbers  (notches  being  cut  to  prevent 
any  slipping),  the  men  stood. 

"Sam  Woodruff,  do  you  wish  to  say  anything?"  was  the  grim 
question  of  the  masked  leader. 

The  man  addressed  looked  around  upon  the  crowd  in  silence 
a  few  moments,  and  then,  without  further  preface,  said: 

"Gentleman,  3'ou  are  hanging  an  innocent  man,  but  I  trust 
God  will  forgive  vou,  as  I  do.    Mav  I  sav  mv  pravers?" 

xVssent  being  given,  the  doomed  man  knelt  and  silently 
prayed  to  the  Almighty.  When  he  had  finished  he  arose  to  his 
feet  and,  looking  once  more  upon  his  captors,  said: 


THE  HAYWARD  MURDER.  |fJ3 

"I  haye  one  last  request  to  make.  Permit  me  to  jump  off  the 
bridge;  don't  push  me  to  my  death." 

But  his  request  was  not  granted,  and  a  few  moments  later  a 
dozen  hands  pushed  him  off  the  edge — off  the  edge  into  eternity. 

When  Seminole  was  asked  if  he  had  anything  to  say.  he 
choked  a  moment  and  then,  in  a  clear,  distinct  voice,  said : 

"Gentlemen,  I  have  but  little  to  say,  and  I  address  myself  to 
those  among  you  who  may  be  erring  ones.  Beware  of  the  first 
bad  step.  The  after  ones  are  not  to  be  feared;  it  is  the  begin- 
nings. But  for  my  first  evil  break  I  would  not  be  standing  here 
to-night  with  this  rope  about  my  neck  and  death  staring  me  in 
the  face.  In  relation  to  this  murder,  gentlemen,  we  two  are  the 
guilty  ones.  We  committed  the  crime.  I  have  no  excuse  to  offer, 
nothing  to  say." 

And  then,  raising  his  head  toward  heaven,  his  lips  moving 
tremulously,  he  broke  out  with,  "O,  God  Almighty,  have  mercy 
on  my  sinful  soul;  and  as  Thou  hast  shown  Thy  love  and  tender- 
ness in  times  past  to  weak  and  guilty  ones,  show  such  to  me  now. 
Guard,  oh,  I  pray  Thee,  mj-  mother  and  brothers,  and  let  not 
them  follow  in  my  footsteps  or  take  my  sinful  path.  Forgive  me 
my  transgressions,  O  God,  and" — his  voice  broke  slightly — "take 
me  to  Thee,  sinful  though  I  am."  And  then,  in  simple  but  beauti- 
ful and  eloquent  terms,  he  prayed  for  the  well-being  and  salvation 
of  his  captors  and  executioners. 

During  this  prayer  the  vigilantes  stood  around,  with  hats 
removed  and  heads  bowed,  in  reverential  listening.  It  was  a 
sombre,  impressive  picture.  The  moonlight  shining  cold  and  clear 
upon  the  scene;  the  fated  man,  with  eyes  turned  towards  the 
zenith,  one  foot  upon  the  iron  rail  of  the  track,  the  other  upon 
the  tie  to  which  was  attached  the  rope  that  drooped  from  his 
neck;  the  swinging,  twitching  body  of  his  companion  in  crime 
dangling  in  awful  solitude  below;  the  congregated  men  with  un- 
covered and  bent  heads,  and  their  faces  hid  beneath  grim  masks; 
the  polished  barrels  of  rifles  and  guns  gleaming  in  the  moon- 
beams, and  the  grave-like  silence  alone  broken  by  the  earnest, 
feeling  words  of  the  speaker — a  picture  never  to  be  forgotten. 
And  when  at  last  the  lips  were  closed  and  the  fatal  push  was 

6 


1(54  THE  HAYWARD  MURDER. 

given,  even  the  stern  executioners  of  inexorable  law  felt  a  tremor 
run  through  their  stalwart,  muscular  limbs. 

Seminole  died  instantly,  his  neck  being  broken  in  the  fall, 
but  swinging  past  the  spiles  the  skin  on  the  knuckles  of  his  right 
hand  was  rubbed  off.  Woodruff  died  hard,  his  struggles  for 
breath  being  distinctly  heard,  and  his  limbs  twitching  convul- 
sively. 

The  work  was  done,  and  the  vigilantes  slowly  retraced  their 
steps  to  their  horses,  and  without  a  word  mounted  to  their  sad- 
dles, while  the  two  bodies  hanging  beneath  the  bridge  twisted 
and  twirled,  and  finally  rested  motionless,  stirred  only  now  and 
then  by  a  passing  breeze  that  played  fitfully  with  their  fast  stif- 
fening forms. 

During  the  confusion  in  securing  the  prisoners  in  the  jail, 
Mr.  Boyd  managed  to  get  to  the  telephone  and  attempted  to 
communicate  with  the  town.  But  in  vain.  Then  he  sent  Cox,  the 
watchman,  off  to  alarm  Sheriff  Belcher,  but  ere  the  messenger 
had  proceeded  a  dozen  yards  he  was  stopped  and  returned  to  the 
o'clock  he  was  awakened  by  his  brother-in-law.  Archer  DeFrance, 
building.  The  sheriff  was  asleep  at  his  home  when,  about  1 
who  told  him  that  something  was  going  on  at  the  jail,  and  a  few 
moments  later  a  black  watchman  named  Baker,  who  had  been 
especially  instructed  in  view  of  such  an  emergency,  came  in  with 
the  alarm  also.  A  few  minutes  later  and  the  sheriff  was  hasten- 
ing at  the  top  of  his  speed  towards  the  jail  on  the  hill.  But  he 
was  too  late.  The  murderers  of  R.  B.  Hayward  had  gone  to  their 
final  account,  and  the  vigilantes,  with  the  exception  of  a  guard 
on  the  ridge  near  the  bodies,  had  disappeared  as  quietly  and 
mysteriously  as  they  had  come.  Then  the  sheriff  went  for  the 
coroner,  Dr.  Joseph  W.  Anderson,  and  without  loss  of  time  that 
officer  arrived  upon  the  ground.  While  he  was  examining  the 
bodies  the  coroner  was  hailed  by  the  vigilantes  with : 

"What  are  you  doing?" 

''Examining  into  your  devilish  work.'' 

"Are  they  dead?" 

"Yes;  deader  than  hell." 

"All  right.  Hayward  is  avenged.  Good  night."  And  the 
sentinel  horsemen  rode  off  with  a  parting  wave  of  their  hands. 


The  Lynching  of  Woodruff  and  Seminole  at  Uoiden. 


THE   HAY  WARD   MURDER. 


167 


As  the  main  body  of  men  left  the  scene  of  the  lyncliino,  thev 
fired  a  farewell  shot  from  Itieir  pistols,  and  as  their  number  was 
variously  estimated  at  from  one  hundred  to  a  hundred  and  fifty, 
it  made  quite  a  volley. 

After  viewing  the  hanged  men,  the  coroner  ordered  the  sher- 
itf  to  cut  them  down,  which  was  done,  and  D.  I*.  Maynard  having 
been  sent  for  and  arriving  with  his  express  wagon,  the  corpses 
were  taken  up  and  conveyed  to  an  unoccupied  storeroom  on  Ford 
street.  Here  they  were  placed  under  the  care  of  two  watchers, 
<ind  about  D  o'clock  in  the  morning  were  conveyed  to  the  court 
house,  where,  an  hour  later,  the  jury  impaneled  by  the  coroner 
held  the  inquest,  and  brought  in  a  verdict  to  the  effect  that  Sem- 
inole and  Woodruff  "came  to  their  death  upon  the  28th  day  of 
December,  1879,  being  taken  from  the  jail  and  custody  of  the 
said  jailer  of  said  counts'  by  force  and  violence,  between  the  hours 
of  12  and  1  o'clock  a.  m.,  and  hanged  by  the  neck  by  parties  un 
known  to  tliis  jury,  and  with  felonious  intent." 

After  the  tragedy  the  undertaker  laid  the  bodies  out  in  plain 
pine  boxes,  ])ainted  black  on  the  outside,  and,  untying  their 
hands,  crossed  them  in  front.  Woodruff"  was  dressed  in  a  dark 
■check  shirt,  duck  overall  and  cotton  stockings,  without  shoes. 
His  eyes  were  half  open,  and  his  mouth,  with  its  lips  slightly 
^part,  disclosed  his  regular  teeth  beneath.  During  his  confine- 
ment in  Golden  he  had  not  shaved,  and  a  rough  growth  of  beard 
<!Overed  his  cheeks  and  chin.  His  forehead  was  covered  with 
blood  that  dripped  from  the  wounds  on  the  top  of  his  head. 
<;aused  by  the  necessary  rapping  given  with  the  pistol  butt  when 
taking  liim  out  of  his  cell. 

Seminole  wore  a  checkered  vest  and  a  dark  sack  coat  over  his 
undershirt.  Dark  pantaloons,  brown  mixed  stockings  and  Indian 
moccasins  completed  the  balance  of  his  attire.  His  mouth  and 
eyes  were  firmly  closed,  and  from  either  corner  of  the  shut  lips  a 
streak  of  blood  ran  down  upon  his  neck,  while  watery  matter 
oozed  slightly  from  his  left  eye.  His  face  was  considerably 
swollen,  and  decomposition  soon  set  in.  The  knots  on  both 
nooses  had  slipped  around  to  the  front,  immediately  beneath  the 
<;hin,  and  had  cut  somewhat  into  the  flesh  of  both  men.  The  back 
of  Woodruff's  neck  was  badlv  cut  and  much  swollen,  and  blood 


If^S  'J'HE  HAYWARD  MURDER. 

marked  the  courses  on  both  necks  followed  hj  the  rope.  In  order 
to  accommodate  Woodruff's  bodj,  a* box  six  feet  seven  inches 
long  was  necessary,  and  six  feet  one  inch  for  Seminole. 

Monday  afternoon,  succeeding  the  day  of  the  lynching,  no 
answer  having  been  received  from  relatives,  both  Seminole  and 
Woodruff  were  buried  in  the  Golden  cemetery. 

And  thus  Samuel  Woodruff  and  Joseph  Seminole  pass  out 
of  the  world's  daily  history,  and  another  terrible  example  is  re- 
corded to  give  terror  to  all  evil-doers. 

Recording  the  tragedy  as  above  related,  the  Tribune  of  De- 
tember  30  said : 

"In  wandering  through  the  town  of  Golden  yesterday,  and 
conversing  with  business  men  of  all  grades  of  social  and  intellec- 
tual standing,  the  reporter  failed  to  find  one  solitary  person  who 
condemned  this  recent  lynching.  On  every  side  the  popular  ver- 
dict seemed  to  be  that  the  hanging  was  not  only  well  merited,  but 
a  positive  gain  to  the  county,  saving  it  at  least  five  or  six  thou- 
sand dollars.  In  plumply  asking  the  question  from  thirteen  rep- 
resentative men,  the  Tribune  commissioner  met  with  the  unvary- 
ing response:  'It  was  the  best  thing  possible,  and  we  are  all 
glad  of  it.'  " 


A  DUNKAKD  DISGRACED. 
CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE  LEADER  OF  THE  AMISH  SOCIETY  OF  IOWA  DISAPPEARS  AND  IS 
MOURNED  AS  DEAD— HE  LEAVES  HIS  HOME  HEAVILY  IN  DEBT. 
BUT  CARRIES  THE  CONFIDENCE  OF  ALL— WHEN  LAST  SEEN  HE 
HAS  TEN  THOUSAND  DOLLARS  ON  HIS  PERSON— PINKERTON'S 
DETECTIVE  AGENCY  EMPLOYED  TO  NO  AVAIL— ONE  HOPE  STILL 
LEFT. 

Mr.  Joseph  Aruold,  known  to  his  friends  and  the  community 
at  large  as  ''Joe,"  has  for  many  years  past  been  one  of  the  most 
trusted  of  Gen.  Cook's  assistant  detectives.  To  him  have  been 
entrusted  many  of  the  cases  which  required  the  closest  attention 
to  detail,  and  a  capacity  to  pick  up  clues  which  others  less  shrewd 
and  less  familiar  with  the  small  traits  of  human  nature  would 
bave  allowed  to  go  unnoticed.  He  is  a  typical  detective.  He  is 
one  of  the  best  men  on  a  cold  trail  in  the  whole  country,  and  is  as 
plausible  as  a  courtier  when  it  is  necessary  to  be  plausible.  At 
other  times  he  is  quite  disposed  to  be  taciturn,  and  he  never 
gives  anything  away. 

One  of  Joe's  best  pieces  of  detective  work  was  done  in  the 
vear  1878,  and  it  illustrates  his  shrewdness  about  as  well  as  any 
story  which  can  be  told  of  him.  This  consisted  in  the  working  up 
of  the  case  of  Christian  J.  Schuttler,  as  big  a  pious  fraud  as  ever 
dawned  upon  Denver.  Schuttler  had  for  many  years  lived  in 
Johnson  county.  Iowa,  twelve  miles  from  Iowa  City.  He  was  a 
man  of  over  fifty  years  of  age,  the  head  of  a  family  consisting  of 
a  wife  and  twelve  children.  He  was  a  member  of  the  Amish 
Society,  a  branch  of  the  Dunkard  faitli.  and  was  a  leader  among 
them.  Indeed,  he  was  at  the  head  of  the  society  in  Johnson 
county,  if  not  in  the  entire  state  of  Iowa.  He  was  the  financial 
agent  and  manager  of  his  society,  attending  to  all  the  business  of 
his  people  with  the  outside  world  for  the  entire  community.  The 
society  in  Iowa  was  prosperous,  because  industi-ious  and  frugal. 


]70  A  DUXKARD  DISGRACED. 

and  Schuttler,  as  their  agent,  had  almost  unlimited  credit.  He 
was  trusted  everywhere  as  a  man  of  extreme  probity  and  honor; 
probably  because  he  wore  a  long  beard,  as  the  Amish  people 
never  shave;  had  a  meek  look  in  his  eyes,  spoke  in  a  low  tone, 
wore  hooks  and  eyes  instead  of  buttons,  and  carried  other  ex- 
ternal signs  wiiich  made  him  appear  a  man  whom  the  w^orld 
should  trust;  but  most  probably  because  he  had  the  confidence 
of  his  own  people,  and  because  they  backed  him  as  a  bod}'  in  his 
financial  and  other  operations.  At  any  rate,  he  was  trusted  im- 
plicitly, and  this  fact  led  to  his  falling  into  Joe  Arnold's  hands. 

.  As  general  business  agent  for  his  organization,  Schuttler 
often  made  business  visits  to  Chicago.  What  his  general  conduct 
there  was  on  these  occasions  is  not  known  in  detail,  but  it  is  sup- 
posed to  have  generally  been  very  loose,  though  he  was  not  sus- 
pected by  those  who  trusted  him  until  after  the  occurrences^ 
which  are  about  to  be  related. 

Schuttler  made  one  of  these  visits  to  Chicago  in  the  early 
part  of  1878,  and  during  that  visit  disappeared  mysteriously  from 
the  sight  of  his  friends  and  acquaintances.    He  had  gone  to  Chi- 
cago for  the  purpose  of  selling  for  his  society  thirteen  carloads  of 
fine  beef  cattle,  which  had  been  prepared  for  the  market  by  his 
Dunkard  friends.    Before  leaving,  as  was  afterwards  ascertained, 
he  had  borrowed  $4,000  in  currency  from  the  Johnson  County 
Bank,  of  which  Mr.  John  Conden  was  cashier,  and  also  various 
small  sums  from  other  persons.    He  had  been  gone  several  days 
before  any  uneasiness  began  to  be  felt;  but  when  at  last,  after 
some  two  or  three  weeks  of  waiting,  nothing  was  heard  of  him, 
his  friends  began  to  grow  uneasy,  and  took  the  initiatory  steps 
towards  making  a  search  for  him,  if  alive,  and  for  his  body,  if 
dead.    Letters  were  written  to  Chicago,  but  only  elicited  the  fact 
that  he  had  arrived  there  with  his  cattle,  and  had  sold  them  and 
gotten  the  money  for  them.    The  cashier  of  a  bank  remembered 
seeing  Schuttler  in  his  bank,  where  he  had  gone  out  with  a  draft 
for  110,000.     This  was  the  last  trace  which  had  been  found. 
Search  was  made  everywhere  in  Chicago,  but  no  one  could  be 
found  who  could  throw  any  light  upon  the  mystery,  which  deep- 
ened every  day.    Advertisements  were  put  in  the  papers.    Friends 
became  uneasy  for  the  man's  personal  safety;  creditors  grew  anx- 


A  DUNKARD  DISGRACED. 


171 


ious  for  other  reasons;  his  family  was  terribly  distressed  for  their 
own  welfare,  as  well  as  for  that  of  the  father  and  husband.  But 
no  good  tidings  were  received  with  which  to  appease  the  general 
uneasiness. 

Hardly  any  one  believed  that  Schuttler  had  disappeared  of 
his  own  accord.  As  has  been  said,  he  was  trusted  by  all  and  sus- 
pected by  none.  It  was  believed  that  he  had  been  robbed  for  his 
money,  and  the  suspicion  that  he  had  also  been  murdered  grad- 
ually took  possession  of  the  public  mind. 

At  last  a  heavy  reward  was  offered  for  the  finding  of  the 
man,  dead  or  alive,  and  for  any  clue  which  would  aid  in  clearing 
up  the  terrible  mystery  and  bringing  to  justice  those  who  were 
believed  to  have  been  responsible  for  his  disappearance. 

At  the  special  request  of  those  interested,  Pinkerton's  De- 
tective Agency-  was  employed  on  the  case  by  those  interested, 
and  instructed  to  spare  neither  money  nor  pains  in  their  work. 
They  published  descriptions  in  the  papers,  searched  Chicago  from 
one  end  to  the  other,  and  even  went  so  far  as  to  have  the  Chicago 
river  dragged  for  the  body.  They  set  their  men  in  every  direction 
to  work,  but  failed  utterly  to  find  any  trace  of  the  missing  man, 
or  to  offer  any  theory  which  would  explain  his  disappearance. 
Schuttler's  friends  were  quite  despairing. 

But  there  was  still  reason  for  hope,  if  they  had  only  known, 
which  will  appear  in  the  next  chajtter. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

DETECTIVE  ARNOLD  "SMELLS  A  IVIICE"-HE  WITNESSES  A  PECULIAR 
WEDDING  IN  A  JUSTICE'S  OFFICE  IN  DENVER,  AND  CONCLUDES 
THAT  THE  BRIDEGROOM  IS  NO  OTHER  THAN  MR.  SCHUTTLER, 
OF  IOWA— A  VERY  SMALL  CLUE  LEADS  TO  BIG  RESULTS— A  CASE 
OF  CONFIDENCE,  THEFT  AND  BIGAMY  BROUGHT  TO  LIGHT— 
SCHUTTLER,  BEING  ARRESTED,  OWNS  UP  AND  GOES  BACK  TO 
IOWA,  WHERE  HE  IS  WELCOMED  TO  THE  BOSOM  OF  HIS  FAMILY. 

One  day  several  weeks  after  the  man's  disappearance,  and 
when  the  Pinkertons  had  almost  ceased  their  search  the  Johnson 
county  people  received  a  telegram  from  the  Rocky  Mountain  De- 
tective Association,  asking  them  for  a  complete  description  of 
Schuttler,  and  asking  what  should  be  done  in  case  there  was  reas- 
onable hope  of  finding  Schuttler.  A  reply  was  sent,  requesting 
that  every  effort  be  made,  and  saying  that  a  reward  of  |500  would 
be  paid  for  the  discovery  of  the  man  and  his  return  to  Iowa. 

Joe  Arnold  had  read  the  description  of  Schuttler  in  the  Chi- 
cago papers.  Mr.  O.  A.  Whittemore  was  then  a  justice  of  the 
peace  in  Denver.  One  day  Mr.  Arnold  was  in  Justice  Whitte- 
more's  office  attending  to  some  business  when  he  noticed  a  rather 
peculiar  looking  couple  come  in  and  ask  to  be  married.  The  man 
gave  the  name  of  Christian  Schottler  and  the  woman  that  of 
Mary  Spohr.  The  detective  scanned  the  pair  carefully,  and  at  last 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  had  somewhere  read  a  description 
of  the  man  and  that  he  was  "wanted."  After  thinking  over  the 
matter  in  his  own  mind  he  concluded  that  Christian  Schottler, 
who  was  getting  married  to  Mary  Spohr,  was  no  other  than 
Christian  J.  Schuttler,  late  of  Johnson  county,  Iowa,  who  was 
supposed  to  have  been  murdered  for  his  money  and  who  was  be- 
ing mourned  by  his  wife  and  twelve  children  as  dead.  That  he 
had  made  many  changes  in  his  appearance  was  quite  evident. 
His  long  hair  and  beard  had  been  cut,  and  the  Quaker-like  garb 
had  given  i)lace  to  a  far  more  fly  costume.  But  the  features  of 
the  man  were  those  which  had  been  described  in  the  Chicago 


A  DUNKARD  DISGRACED.  ]73 

paper,  and  the  name  given  here  was  very  similar  to  that  -v^hich 
the  Iowa  man  had  borne.  Mr.  Arnold  was  quite  convinced  that 
Schuttler,  instead  of  being  the  truly  good  creature  which  had 
been  described,  was  a  wolf  in  sheep's  clothing,  who  had  stolen 
the  110,000  in  money  and  deserted  his  family  and  foresworn  his 
creed  for  the  purpose  of  living  with  the  woman  whom  he  had  seen 
become  his  wife. 

Mr.  Arnold  was  careful,  of  course,  to  avoid  divulging  his 
suspicions  to  these  people  or  to  create  any  uneasiness  in  their 
minds. 

He  went  to  Gen.  Cook  and  told  him  what  he  had  witnessed 
and  imparted  his  surmise  to  the  chief.  Cook  then  went  with  him 
to  see  the  man  and  to  pass  his  opinion  upon  him.  He  coincided 
with  Arnold  in  his  view  of  the  case,  and  it  was  after  this  confer- 
ence that  the  telegram  referred  to  above  was  sent  to  Iowa. 

In  accordance  with  the  instructions  from  Iowa,  the  detectives 
decided  to  keep  a  close  watch  upon  the  movements  of  the  pair. 
This  work  was  entrusted  almost  entirel}'  to  Mr.  Arnold.  He  sel- 
dom allowed  the  man  and  woman  to  get  out  of  his  sight,  though 
he  was  careful  to  remain  unknown  to  them.  He  discovered  that 
they  spent  the  greater  portion  of  their  time  in  the  retired  por- 
tions of  the  city,  and  found  that  they  had  entered  into  negotia- 
tions some  few  days  after  their  arrival  here  for  a  saloon  on  Wazee 
street,  where  it  was  supposed  they  believed  they  could  go  into 
business  and  earn  a  livelihood,  as  well  as  enjoy  their  illicit  love, 
without  being  detected.  They  resided  during  the  time  in  a  little 
grout  cottage  on  Fifteenth  street,  near  Welton,  considered  then  a 
long  way  out  of  town. 

One  day,  much  to  his  satisfaction,  Mr.  Arnold  traced  Schot- 
tler  to  a  photograph  gallery,  and  found  that  he  had  had  some 
pictures  of  himself  made.  What  motive  he  could  have  had  for 
this  step  is  not  known,  but  it  is  presumed  that  he  desired  to  pre- 
serve a  record  of  his  early  appearance  in  his  new  garb,  w.hich, 
though  that  of  ordinary  life  with  other  men,  was  strange  to  him. 
Whatever  the  freak  that  led  him  to  seek  the  photographer,  it 
proved  quite  a  serious  matter  for  him,  and  helped,  if  it  did  no 
more,  to  hasten  the  arrest.  Of  course  Arnold  procured  one  of 
these  pictures.    He  sent  it  post  haste  to  the  home  of  Schuttler, 


174  '^  DUNKARD  DISGRACED. 

where,  although  the  clerical  look  was  removed,  it  was  recognized 
as  being  the  photograph  of  Schuttler.  The  detectives  were  then 
requested  to  see  that  Schuttler  did  not  make  his  escape  and  to 
arrest  him  in  case  he  should  attempt  to  leave  town.  The  tele- 
gram was  from  Mr.  Conden,  the  cashier  of  the  bank  which  had 
lent  Schuttler  |4,()00,  and  he  announced  his  determination  to 
come  out  and  see  the  man. 

In  the  meantime  Arnold  had  found  that  the  man  and  woman 
told  different  stories  about  themselves,  as  to  where  they  were 
from,  one  of  them  stating  that  they  had  just  arrived  from  Illinois 
and  the  other  that  they  came  from  Wisconsin.  They  appeared 
to  be  nervous  and  watchful,  and  every  movement  strengthened 
the  suspicion  entertained  of  them  by  the  detectives.  The  woman 
at  last  disappeared,  and  it  was  learned  that  she  had  gone  to  Chi- 
cago, taking  a  considerable  sum  of  money  with  her. 

When  Conden  arrived  the  man  was  alone.  He  was  taken  to 
a  place  where  he  could  obtain  a  good  look  at  him  without  being 
himself  seen  by  Schuttler.  He  at  once  pronounced  Schottler 
to  be  no  other  than  Schuttler,  and  requested  that  he  be  arrested 
forthwith. 

The  arrest  followed  soon  afterwards,  and  was  made  by  Gen. 
Cook.  When  Schuttler  was  apprehended  he  denied  that  he  had 
been  guilty  of  any  crime,  and  told  the  officer  that  he  must  be  mis- 
taken. He  made  no  objection  other  than  to  declare  his  innocence 
and  to  swear  that  his  name  was  Scholtz  instead  of  Schuttler. 
In  repl}'  to  these  remarks  Cook  onl}'  told  him  that  if  he  would  go 
With  him  to  his  office  the  matter  could  very  soon  be  settled;  that 
there  was  a  man  there  who  would  probably  recognize  him.  and 
that  if  he  did  not  there  would  be  no  harm  done,  and  he  could  go. 
To  this  proposition  Schuttler  assented,  and  went  with  Cook. 
Conden  was  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  two  men  at  the  officer's 
rooms,  and  when  Schuttler  arrived  there  was  a  mutual  recogni- 
tion.- 

"My  God!"  exclaimed  Schuttler. 

With  this  he  thrust  his  hand  into  his  pocket  and  brought  out 
an  ordinary  pocket  knife  with  which  he  made  an  effort  to  cut  his 
throat,  and  in  this  he  doubtless  would  have  succeeded  had  he  not 
been  interfered  with  by  Cook  and  Arnold.  He  then  acknowledged 


A  DUNKARD  DISGRACED.  I75 

everything,  and  said  it  was  useless  to  make  anv  attempt  to  con- 
ceal his  crime.  He  would,  he  said,  willingly  go  back  home  and 
make  any  reparation  for  his  offense  that  was  in  his  power.  He 
now  talked  profusely,  and  claimed  that  then  for  the  hrst  time, 
though  he  had  been  "missing"  for  nearly  two  months,  he  had  real- 
ized the  wrong  which  he  had  done.  He  protested  that  he  had 
been  drugged  and  stupefied  in  Chicago  and  led  astray  by  the  wo- 
man to  whom  he  had  been  married  here. 

It  may  be  remarked  in  passing  that  it  was  afterwards  learned 
that  the  woman  had  been  a  member  of  the  doni  monde  and  that 
Schuttler  had  been  acquainted  with  her  for  several  years  before 
his  little  escapade.  It  seems,  further,  that  he  had  deliberately 
planned  an  elopement  with  her  before  leaving  home,  and  that  he 
had  as  deliberately  borrowed  money  and  procured  the  sale  of  the 
cattle  with  the  intention  of  defrauding  the  community  which  had 
trusted  him  with  such  implicity.  The  woman  had  played  her  part 
merely  for  the  purpose  of  getting  money  from  the  fellow,  and 
had  succeeded  to  such  an  extent  that  when  he  was  captured  onlv 
|4,000  of  the  original  |10,000  was  found  upon  his  person.  She 
had  gone  away,  doubtless,  to  never  return.  Be  that  as  it  may, 
she  has  never  since  been  heard  from  in  Colorado.  She  had  un- 
doubtedly played  Schuttler  for  an  old  fool;  and  going  on  the  prin- 
ciple that  an  old  fool  is  the  worst  fool  of  all,  had  undertaken 
to  beat  him  badly,  and  had  succeeded  admirably — tearing  the 
man,  as  such  women  are  most  capable  of  doing,  from  his  exalted 
position  in  his  community  and  from  his  familj',  and  causing  him 
ever  afterwards  to  be  looked  upon  as  a  thief,  a  bigamist,  and, 
worse  than  all,  a  silly  dupe. 

To  return  to  the  story.  Arnold  assisted  in  taking  Schuttler 
back  to  Iowa,  where  he  was  taken  in  hand  by  tlie  aiithorities. 
The  people  of  Schuttler's  faith,  who  are  generally  very  honest, 
were  greatly  chagrined  at  his  disgrace,  and  through  their  inter- 
cession he  was  saved  from  a  term  in  the  penitentiary.  They 
agreed  to  settle  all  his  debts,  and  a  compromise  was  effected  upon 
this  basis.  Tbe  man's  wife  was  the  only  person  who  })rofessed  to 
believe  his  story  of  the  manner  in  which  he  had  been  led  astray. 
There  was  a  reconciliation  in  the  family,  with  whom  Schuttler 


176  A  DUNKARD  DISGRACED. 

soon  afterwards  removed  to  Nebraska,  where  he  is  probably  still 
living. 

The  reward  offered  was  paid  promptly  to  Arnold,  and  he 
received  much  praise  for  the  splendid  manner  in  which  he  had 
conducted  the  case,  and  especially  for  the  shrewdness  he  had  dis- 
played in  the  beginning.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  among  the  people 
of  Johnson  county,  Iowa,  the  Rocky  Mountain  Detective  Associa- 
tion will  forever  be  considered  as  superior  to  Mr.  Pinkerton's 
agency.  There  are  many  other  localities  which  feel  the  same  way 
on  the  subject. 


THE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY.  • 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

A  FOUL  MURDER  ON  DRY  CREEK,  IN  DOUGLAS  COUNTY— A  QUIET 
SUNDAY  DESECRATED  BY  A  PAIR  OF  ASSASSINS— L.  K.  WALL 
KILLED  BY  E.  E.  WIGHT  AND  G.  H.  WITHERILL  FOR  HIS  POSSES- 
SIONS—HE IS  SET  UPON  WHILE  HERDING  HIS  SHEEP  AND  SHOT 
BY  SUPPOSED  FRIENDS— A  DESPERATE  RUN  FOR  LIFE  ENDS  IN 
DEATH  AT  THE  HANDS  OF  SHAMELESS  RUFFIANS— THE  MURDER 
REMAINS  A  MYSTERY  FOR  WEEKS— THE  ROCKY  MOUNTAIN 
DETECTIVES  AT  WORK. 

Dry  creek  is  the  name  of  a  small  and  unimportant  tributary 
of  Cherry  creek,  which,  like  a  great  many  other  streams  in  this 
vicinity,  contains  but  little  water,  except  during  the  spring  and 
summer  months.  It  is,  however,  skirted  in  places  by  growths  of 
underbrush  and  cottonwoods  and  willows.  It  heads  in  Douglas 
county,  near  the  Divide,  and  runs  for  twenty  miles  in  a  northeast- 
erly direction,  until  it  joins  Cherry  creek  some  fifteen  miles  above 
Denver.  The  region  is  one  for  the  possession  of  which  ten  years 
ago  no  one  but  a  few  sheep-herders  disputed  with  the  prairie  dog 
and  plains  rattlesnake.  Lonely  and  barren  as  was  the  country,  it 
has  had  its  tragedies,  and  Dry  creek  tells  one  of  the  most  thrill- 
ing tales  of  cold-blooded  murder  which  is  recorded  in  this  calen- 
dar. 

Some  few  years  previous  to  1871,  a  «juiet  and  reticent  man 
came  to  the  place  and  bought  a  small  herd  of  sheep.  He  gave  the 
name  of  S.  K.  Wall.  Occasionally,  when  business  called,  he  rode 
into  Denver;  but  he  never  remained  for  any  length  of  time. 
Unlike  many  men  of  his  calling,  and  those  of  the  kindred  vocation 
of  cattle-grazing,  he  never  staid  over  to  have  "a  good  time  with 
the  boys."  He  did  not  buy  whiskey  with  his  money,  but  after 
paying  for  his  necessities,  he  would  visit  the  book  stores  and  lay 
in  a  supply  of  reading  matter.  This  he  would  carry  with  him  to 
his  home  up  the  creek.    There  he  lived,  in  an  unpretentious  dug- 


178  'J^H^  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY. 

out  tent,  the  life  of  a  hermit,  doing  his  own  cooking  and  tending 
his  own  sheep.  He  had  built  his  hut  in  a  willow  copse,  near  the 
bed  of  the  creek;  and,  owing  perhaps  as  much  to  his  retiring  man- 
ners as  to  his  frugal  mode  of  life,  the  supposition  prevailed  in  the 
neighborhood  that  he  had  a  great  deal  of  money  stored  away  in 
the  place  of  his  abode.  His  herd  had  also  increased  rapidly  in 
numbers  and  now  counted  four  hundred  head  of  as  well-kept  sheep 
as  were  to  be  found  in  the  neighborhood.  The  prize  was  one 
likely  to  excite  the  envy  of  those  disposed  to  avariciousness. 

Among  Mr.  Wall's  neighbors  in  those  days  were  Mr.  J.  S. 
McCool,  who  now  resides  on  the  Platte  a  few  miles  below  Den- 
ver, and  Mr.  LeFevre.  Employed  by  Mr.  LeFevre  was  a  young 
man  named  George  H.  Wetherill,  while  Mr.  McCool  gave  work 
to  one  E.  E,  Wight,  commonly  then  known  in  the  neighborhood 
as  Jack  Wight.  These  two  emploj'^s  became  the  murderers  of 
Wall,  whose  sheep  and  supposed  hidden  treasure  of  gold  they 
longed  to  possess. 

Witherill  was  the  younger  of  the  two  men,  being  at  that 
time  twenty-three  years  of  age,  while  Wight  was  about  twenty- 
seven.  Both  were  doubtless  bad  enough,  but  to  Wight  seems 
to  belong  the  credit  of  planning  the  deviltry.  He  also  appears 
to  have  found  in  Witherill  not  only  a  willing  accomplice  but  a 
pliant  tool.  Wight  had  come  into  Colorado  the  year  before 
from  Iowa,  and  Witherill  had  recently  arrived  from  the  north- 
west. He  was  a  native  of  New  York,  and  had  gradually  drifted 
westward  until  he  reached  Utah  and  Dakota.  For  a  while  he 
was  engaged  as  a  stage  driver  from  Corrinne,  Utah,  on  the 
Fort  Benton  route.  Afterwards  he  drifted  back  to  Laramie 
<^ity,  Wyo.,  and  from  Laramie  came  to  Denver.  The  education 
which  he  had  received  as  a  stage  driver  in  the  then  almost 
savage  region  in  which  he  operated  was  not  calculated  to  make 
a  refined  creature  of  him. 

Witherill  and  Wight  soon  became  acquainted  and  were  not 
long  in  deciding  to  appropriate  Wall's  property  which  had 
aroused  their  cupidity.  From  the  time  they  first  discovered 
themselves  to  be  of  common  mind  upon  this  point,  they  talked 
over  the  project  continually  when  they  met.  Both  of  them 
were  herders,  but  for  different  men,  and  they  frequently  con- 


THE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY.  |79 

ti'ived  to  bring  their  herds  together  for  the  purpose  of  discuss- 
ing this  subject  between  themselves.  They  also  managed  to 
get  days  off,  when  they  would  stroll  about  and  discuss  the  mat- 
ter. They  also  met  at  night  and  debated  the  fine  points,  going 
so  far  at  times  as  to  walk  ovc^r  to  Wall's  place  and  survey  the 
premises.  The  horrible  nature  of  the  crime  of  murder  seems 
to  have  never  entered  their  minds.  The  only  point  which  pre- 
sented itself  was  the  feasibility  of  their  scheme.  They  were 
not  anxious  to  kill,  but  they  wanted  Wall's  property,  and  after 
discussing  various  other  plans  for  getting  Wall  out  of  the 
way,  decided,  as  dead  men  tell  no  tales,  to  murder  him  in  cold 
blood  and  take  the  sheep  and  whatever  valuables  might  be 
found. 

These  plans  had  begun  to  take  root  as  early  as  the  middle 
of  the  summer,  but  they  did  not  mature  until  September.  The 
I7th  day  of  that  month  in  the  year  1871  fell  on  Sunday — as 
bright  and  quiet  a  day  as  Colorado  was  ever  blessed  with.  The 
two  men  had  taken  the  day  off  for  the  purpose  of  putting  their 
long-cherished  project  into  execution,  agreeing  upon  a  place  of 
meeting  and  a  plan  of  proceeding.  They  came  together  about 
3  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  about  3  came  upon  Wall  lying 
(]uietly  upon  a  peaceful  hillside  in  the  shade  of  a  bluff,  watch- 
ing the  lazy  sheep  as  the^'  gna^^^ed  their  Sunday  meals  out  of 
the  tufted  grass  on  the  sloping  plains  below — certainly  a  pic- 
ture of  peace  and  quiet.  There  was  nothing  there  to  suggest  mur- 
der, but  on  the  contrary  all  was  suggestive  of  brotherly  love. 
The  scene  was  one  to  call  out  the  warmth  and  fellow  feeling 
in  human  nature. 

But  the  two  scoundrels  had  gone  to  the  place  on  murder 
bent,  and  they  did  not  propose  to  be  deterred  from  their  pur- 
pose by  a  Sunday  scene  or  a  sparkle  of  bright  sunshine.  They 
went  up  to  ^\'all,  who  did  not  suspect  but  that  they  meant  to 
l)ay  him  a  friendly  call,  with  smiles  on  their  faces,  and  began 
a  friendly  conversation.  Even  while  they  talked  they  were 
preparing  for  the  murder  which  they  had  come  to  commit,  and 
when  the  doomed  man  turned  his  head,  one  of  the  ruffians — 
which  one  will  probably  never  be  definitely  known — pulled  his 


130  THE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY. 

gun,  and,  leveling  at  the  poor  man's  back,  fired,  the  ball  strik- 
ing him  in  the  neck. 

Comprehending  for  the  first  time  the  real  intention  of  the 
men,  Wall  instinct! velj-  took  to  his  heels  to  save  his  life,  and 
started  towards  his  dugout  tent;  He  flew  down  the  hill  as  if 
carried  on  the  air,  the  two  men  pursuing  almost  as  fast.  It 
was  a  race  for  life — a  curious  interruption  of  the  mild  Sunday 
Rcene  which  spread  out  before  them  under  the  bright  light  of 
the  autumn  skies.  Even  as  Wall  ran,  the  blood  spurted  in 
torrents  from  the  ugl}^  wound  in  his  neck,  marking  the  path  he 
trod  so  plainly  that  he  might  have  been  tracked  by  means  of 
it,  had  not  the  pursuers  been  so  close  as  to  need  no  guide  to 
the  course  the  man  had  taken.  One  of  them  had  come  on 
horseback  to  the  place,  and  he  left  his  animal  standing  while 
he  should  pursue  his  murderous  task.  They  followed  closely 
in  the  footsteps  of  Wall,  whose  path  led  over  a  rugged  hillside, 
down  a  steep  bluff,  and  into  the  bed  of  Dry  creek  below.  He 
ran  so  rapidly  at  first  that  the  shots  which  his  bloody  handed 
pursuers  sent  after  him  were  of  no  avail  in  bringing  him  to  a 
halt.  It  is  not  believed  that  either  one  of  the  bloody  bullets 
except  the  first  hit  the  mark,  and  it  began  to  look  as  if  the  poor 
man  would  make  good  his  escape.  He  was  evidently  bent  upon 
getting  to  his  cabin,  where  once  arrived  he  had  fire  arms  stored 
with  w^hich  he  would  be  amply  able  to  protect  himself  even 
against  double  odds.  The  murderers  apprehended  his  inten- 
tions, and  bent  every  energy  to  cut  off  the  retreat.  Finding 
that  the  leaden  missiles  failed  to  accomplish  their  purpose,  they 
quit  shooting  and  doubled  their  pace. ' 

As  they  increased  their  speed,  Wall  evidently  slackened 
his.  The  run  was  a  long  one,  and  he  was  losing  a  great  deal 
of  blood.  He  had,  however,  reached  the  bed  of  the  gulch,  and 
was  nearing  his  home,  when  his  foot  struck  a  boulder,  and  he 
fell  prone  on  the  creek  bottom,  the  murderers  sweeping  up  be- 
hind him  like  bloodhounds  in  pursuit  of  a  fugitive  slave. 

''Good!"  exclaimed  one  of  them,  as  they  saw  their  prey  fall 
so  nearly  within  their  grasp. 

"I  guess  the  d d  scoundrel's  done  for,"  replied  the  other. 


THE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY.  ][8l 

as  the}'  slackened  their  pace  to  draw  a  long  breath  and  be  pre 
pared  for  a  final  struggle. 

But  a  moment  more  served  to  change  this  last-expressed 
opinion.  Wall  was  greatly  weakened  by  the  loss  of  blood  and 
the  fatigue  of  the  race,  but  he  managed  to  scramble  to  his  feet 
once  more,  and  to  stagger  onward  in  a  zigzag  run  up  the  creek 
bottom.  The  assassins  had  come  up  to  within  twenty  steps  of 
him.  and  could  easily  be  heard. 

■'!*!top  there,  d n  you,  or  we  will  fill  you  full  of  lead." 

one  of  them  shouted  to  him.  ''No  more  of  this  foolishness:  vou 
may  as  well  surrender  on  the  spot," 

Realizing  that  further  flight  was  hopeless;  that  his  strength 
was  gone  and  that  he  was  unarmed,  and  feeling  perhaps  that 
he  might  save  his  life.  Wall  halted,  and  Witherill  and  Wight 
came  up. 

As  they  approached  Wall  he  turned  towards  them  and  de- 
manded an  explanation  of  their  strange  conduct. 

"What  does  it  mean?"  he  demanded  to  know. 

"Mean?    It  means  that  you  are  having  too  good  a  time  of 

it — that  you  are  making  too  much   mouey  for  a   d d   old 

snoozer  who  knows  no  better  how  to  use  it  and  enjoy  it  than 
you  do.  We  want  it.  We  want  your  sheep,  your  money,  every 
thing  you've  got,  d n  you!" 

The  poor  fellow  was  rapidly  sinking  under  the  loss  of  blood. 
He  replied  faintly:  "Take  everything,  but  spare  my  life.  I 
don't  want  to  die.  I  have  done  nothing  to  deserve  death.  I 
will  give  you  everything  freely.  All  I  ask  is  that  I  be  per- 
mitted to  live." 

Witherill  and  Wight  were  now  standing  very  close  to  him, 
and  one  of  them  had  raised  the  breech  of  a  heavy  rifle  over  Wall's 
head.  "Spare  your  life!  What  sort  of  a  game  are  you  giving 
us?    Spare  nothing!    A  fine  idea  to  let  you  live  and  as  soon  as 

your  d d  old  head  is  cured  up  to  go  blabbing  it  to  Dave 

Cook  and  every  other  officer  and  detective  in  the  state.  What 
d'you  take  us  for?  A  charitable  society?  Guess,  old  man,  you're 
a  little  off,  ain't  you?  It's  dead  men  that  tell  no  tales  to  de- 
tectives, old  fellow;  we  puts  our  trust  in  no  others." 

In  vain  did  the  poor  quivering  man  plead  for  his  life.     In 


132  J^HJ'^  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY. 

vain  were  liis  promises  of  secrecy.  Even  while  bending  upon 
his  knees  and  while  he  lifted  his  quivering  hand  to  swear  that 
he  would  deliver  every  article  of  his  possession  to  his  murderers 
if  they  would  only  permit  liim  to  live,  even  while  thus  implor- 
ing, the  heavy  rifle  held  above  his  head  came  crashing  down, 
another  shot  being  fired  at  the  same  time.  A  thundering,  deaf- 
ening noise,  a  lightning  pain  followed  by  the  darkness  of  death, 
and  all  was  over.  Wall  fell  to  the  ground  with  his  skull  broken 
in  and  expired  a  moment  afterwards. 

The  body  was  buried  beneath  a  pile  of  rocks  where  it  had 
fallen  and  the  murderers  prepared  to  take  possession  of  the 
property  which  the.y  had  secured  by  their  Sunday's  W'Ork. 

They,  had  hoped  to  procure  money  through  the  murder  of 
Wall,  as  well  as  to  get  possession  of  his  sheep.  They  shared 
the  popular  opinion  that  he  had  many  dollars  in  gold  and  silver 
and  greenbacks  laid  away  in  his  hut.  Hence  they  first  searched 
the  dead  man's  person,  taking  his  watch  and  pocket  book,  the 
latter  containing  some  small  change  and  a  certificate  of  de- 
posit in  the  bank  then  kept  in  Denver  by  Mr.  Warren  Hussey, 
and  after  securing  these  articles  of  value,  though  of  treacherous 
and  tell-tale  character,  they  hid  the  still  warm  body  of  this 
victim  away  and  proceeded  to  search  Wall's  dugout.  Here, 
contrary  to  expectations,  they  found  nothing  of  value  to  them, 
and  went  out  in  some  disgust  to  take  possession  of  the  sheep, 
which  had  been  so  suddenly  left  by  their  master,  and  which 
were  still  grazing  on  the  quiet  hillside  almost  in  sight  of  the 
spot  which  had  seen  the  culmination  of  the  tragedy  which  had 
begun  in  their  midst. 

A  day  or  two  afterwards  people  living  in  the  neighborhood 
discovered  Witherill  in  charge  of  Wall's  sheep  and  also  that 
Wall  himself  had  disappeared.  In  reply  to  inquiries  Witherill 
stated  that  he  had  bought  the  sheep  from  Wall,  and  exhibited 
a  bill  of  sale  for  them,  saying  at  the  same  time  that  Wall  had 
left  Colorado.  There  was  some  little  suspicion  aroused  at  first, 
because  Witherill  had  never  been  known  to  have  any  sufficient 
amount  of  money  to  procure  so  large  a  herd  as  Wall's.  It  soon, 
also,  became  known  that  Witherill  was  wearing  a  watch  which 


THE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY.  |  g5 

Wall  had  owned  and  which  he  had  told  some  one  that  he  would 
not  part  with  for  three  times  its  value. 

After  this  Witherill  was  regarded  with  suspicion  hj  his 
neighbors,  and  some  of  them  came  to  Denver  and  laid  the  mat- 
ter before  Gen.  Cook,  who  was  at  that  time  sheriff  of  Arapahoe 
county  as  well  as  chief  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  Detective  Asso- 
ciation. As  the  crime,  if  one  had  been  committed,  was  outside 
of  his  jurisdiction  as  sheriff,  having  been  committed  in  another 
county.  Gen.  Cook  referred  the  complaints  to  the  sheriff  of 
Douglas  county.  He,  however,  determined  to  keep  his  eyes 
open  for  developments  and  to  lend  w'hatever  aid  he  could  to  the 
apprehension  of  the  criminal  or  criminals,  if  indeed  the  foul 
play  suspected  had  been  committed. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE  MYSTERY  UNRAVELING— A  BANK  CERTIFICATE  LEADS  TO  IM- 
PORTANT RESULTS— DARING  DEED  OF  WIGHT  TO  OBTAIN  IN- 
FORMATION AS  TO  THE  PLANS  OF  THE  DETECTIVES— FLIGHT  OF 
THE  MURDERERS  ON  STOLEN  STOCK— A  WEARY  RIDE  ACROSS 
THE  PLAINS— THE  ASSASSINS  CHASE  A  WOUNDED  BUFFALO, 
WHO  TURNS  UPON  WITHERILL  AND  SENDS  HIM  FORTH  A  CRIP- 
PLE FOR  LIFE,  WHICH  CIRCUMSTANCE  CAUSES  THE  CAPTURE  OF 
THE  CRIMINALS. 

Gen.  Cook  did  not  have  to  wait  long.  It  is  a  true  saying 
that  murder  will  out.  It  can  not  hide  its  bloody  footprints, 
especially  when  there  are  shrewd  detectives  on  the  track.  Re- 
ports of  Witherill's  suspicious  movements  came  in  frequently. 
An  important  item  to  the  detective  was  the  fact  which  he 
learned  that  Witherill  had  come  to  the  city  soon  after  he  took 
possession  of  the  sheep  with  the  certificate  of  deposit  at  Hussey's 
bank  and  presented  it  to  be  cashed.  This  was  an  important 
link,  and  it  was  greatly  strengthened  by  the  fact  that  the  clerk 
at  the  bank  had  de(,'lared  that  the  indorsement  of  Wall's  name 
on  the  certificate  was  not  in  Wall's  handwriting,  and  had  re- 
turned the  paper  to  Witherill,  who  had  said  that  Wall  had 
gone  to  Laramie  Cit}^  Wyo.,  and  that  the  would  send  him  the 
certificate  and  get  a  reindorsement.  Cook  was  now  well  on 
the  qui  vive.  In  about  two  weeks,  the  time  necessary  to  send 
the  paper  to  Laramie  and  get  it  returned,  Witherill  had  re- 
turned to  the  bank  with  the  certificate,  the  first  indorsement 
erased  and  the  name  written  in  a  different  hand.  But  the  clerk 
failed  to  recognize  the  signature  as  Wall's,  and  acting  under 
Cook's  instructions,  retained  the  certificate. 

Up  to  this  time  Witherill  does  not  seem  to  have  dreamed 
that  any  one  suspected  him  of  any  crime,  and  as  for  Wight,  no 
one  did  suspect  him.  They  had  been  disappointed  in  getting 
so  little  money  from  Wall,  and  determined,  while  they  had  their 
1  lands  in,  to  add  to  their  wealth  by  getting  more  sheep  together. 


THE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY.  |^37 

Henoe  they  made  anotlier  raid,  and  this  affair  seems  to  have 
been  the  hair  that  broke  the  camel's  back;  which  at  hist  so 
thoroughly  confirmed  former  suspicions  that  a  thorough  search 
was  decided  upon.  ]\[r.  J.  K.  Doolittle,  who  is  well  known  in 
Denver,  and  who  is  now  a  prosperous  merchant  in  Pueblo,  had 
a  large  lierd  of  sheep,  which  he  kept  up  the  creek  some  miles  from 
Witherill's  herd.  One  day  it  was  discovered  that  about  six  hun- 
dred of  his  herd  had  disappeared,  and  investigation  developed  the 
fact  that  they  had  been  merged  into  Witherill's  flock.  George 
Hopkins,  Es(\.,  at  that  time  city  marshal  of  Denver,  went  out 
to  attend  to  the  restoration  of  the  sheep  to  their  owner,  and 
to  arrest  Witherill  on  the  charge  of  stealing  the  sheej).  He  had 
no  difficulty  in  identifying  the  sheep,  but  he  found  Witherill 
prepared  with  the  papers  to  demonstrate  his  own  "innocence.' 
He  showed  a  bill  of  sale  from  Wall  for  them,  as  well  as  the 
other  sheep.  But  he  was  brought  into  Denver  to  straighten 
matters  up.  He  agreed  to  restore  all  of  Doolittle's  stock,  and 
to  pay  whatever  expenses  Mr.  Doolittle  had  incurred  in  pro- 
curing his  property. 

While  Witherill  was  in  Denver,  however,  he  was  seen  by 
John  L.  Hayman,  whose  name  appeared  on  the  bill  of  sale  trans- 
ferring the  sheep  from  Wall  to  Witherill,  who  recognized  him  as 
the  man  who  had  signed  Wall's  name,  and  who  had  claimed  to  be 
Wall.    Here  was  a  clear  case  of  forgery. 

Witherill  on  this  occasion  got  out  of  the  town  before  Chief 
Cook  had  learned  of  these  developments;  but  when  he  obtained 
the  information  he  decided  that  Witherill  sliould  again  be  ar- 
rested and  a  thorough  investigation  made  to  ascertain  whether 
Wall  had  not  been  murdered.  Witherill  had  certainly  proved 
himself  a  thief  and  a  forger,  and  there  Avere  many  circumstances 
which  went  to  show  that  he  had  also  been  guilty  of  taking  the  life 
of  a  fellow  being. 

While  Cook  was  making  his  preparations  for  the  caj^ture  of 
Witherill,  Wight  first  began  to  figure  before  the  public  as  an 
•■accomplice  of  Witherill's  in  his  crime.  Knowing  that  he  had  so 
far  not  been  suspected,  as  he  had  constantly  pushed  Witherill 
forward  and  himself  remained  in  the  background,  he  came  to 
Denver  the  next  dav  after  Witherill  had  left,  on  Tuesdav.  a  little 


;|^g  THE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY. 

more  than  three  weeks  after  the  murder,  and  had  the  temerity  to 
go  to  the  officers  and  advise  them  to  arrest  Witherill,  saying  that 
he  believed  him  to  be  guilty  of  ^Yal^s  murder.  He  thus  partially 
gained  the  confidence  of  the  detectives,  and  learned  enough  to 
convince  him  that  the  apprehension  of  Witherill  was  decided 
upon.  Knowing  that  when  Witherill  was  once  taken  he  would 
reveal  the  part  that  Wight  had  taken  in  the  tragedy,  he  returned 
to  Dry  creek  that  afternoon  and  warned  Witherill  of  their  dan- 
ger, and  they  prepared  for  flight  that  night. 

Detectives  Smith  and  Benton  had  been  selected  by  Chief 
Cook  to  go  out  and  arrest  Witherill.  They  left  Denver  on  Wednes- 
day morning,  October  12,  in  search  of  their  man.  When  they 
reached  the  point  at  which  they  supposed  thej  would  find  With- 
erill, they  found  only  a  report  that  he  was  not  to  be  found.  The 
officers  were  not  long  in  discovering  that  not  only  Witherill,  but 
that  Wight  also  had  fled,  and  that  they  had  carried  off  several 
valuable  horses  belonging  to  persons  residing  in  the  vicinity. 

Finding  both  Witherill  and  Wight  gone,  the  officers  deter- 
mined to  devote  a  little  time  to  ascertaining,  if  possible,  the  ex- 
tent of  the  crime  committed  by  the  fugitives,  and,  acting  under 
their  chief's  instructions  to  search  for  confirmation  of  his  sus- 
picion of  the  murder  of  W^all,  they  began  their  investigations. 
Ooing  up  Dry  creek  towards  the  missing  man's  cabin,  they  were 
not  long  in  making  the  dread  discovery  which  proved  a  complete 
confirmation  of  the  worst  theories.  As  they  walked  along  the 
dry  bed  of  the  creek,  their  attention  was  attracted  to  a  bunch  of 
wolves  standing  around  a  pile  of  stones  on  the  hillside,  not  far 
from  the  gulch.  They  seemed  to  be  pawing  at  the  stubborn  rocks 
and  sniffing  the  air  as  if  in  search  of  something  to  eat,  evidently 
satisfied  that  the  object  of  their  search  was  not  far  away. 

The  men  determined  to  investigate  that  sjiot.  The  animals 
were  frightened  away  by  a  pistol  shot  fired  into  their  midst,  and 
the  officers  walked  up  to  the  place  which  they  had  just  quitted. 

Lying  on  the  bare  stones  and  protruding  from  an  opening 
was  the  fleshless  arm  of  a  human  being,  showing  traces  of  the 
teeth  of  the  wolves,  shreds  of  clothing  being  scattered  about  the 
place.  The  stones  being  speedily  removed,  the  rapidly  decaying 
body  of  the  murdered  man  was  brought  to  light.    It  was  covered 


THE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY.  Ig9 

with  bruises  and  blood,  but  was  still  recognizable.  Here  was  the 
horrible  suspicion  confirmed.  There  was  no  longer  any  doubt 
that  Wall  had  been  murdered  by  Witherill,  and  the  flight  of 
Wight  made  his  complicity  more  than  probable. 

The  body  being  properly  disposed  of,  the  officers  set  them- 
selves to  work  to  find  whatever  clue  they  could  to  the  course  the 
murderers  had  taken  in  their  flight.  It  was  ascertained  that 
Witherill  had  some  friends  at  Colorado  City,  in  El  Paso  county, 
the  old  state  capital,  and  it  was  believed  that  the  two  men  would 
go  in  that  direction.  The  officers  sent  information  to  this  effect 
to  Chief  Cook,  and  started  in  that  direction  in  search  of  the  men. 

But  Chief  Cook  had  learned  more  of  the  movements  of  the 
fugitives,  even  while  remaining  at  home,  than  his  officers  who 
were  on  the  ground  knew.  He  had  ascertained,  in  that  mysterious 
way  which  has  ever  made  his  name  a  terror  to  evil-doers,  that  the 
men  had  turned  their  faces  towards  the  rising  sun  and  were  mak- 
ing their  way  across  the  plains  towards  *'the  states."  Even  while 
his  officers  were  still  out,  he  had  laid  plans  to  entrap  the  murder- 
ers and  to  secure  their  arrest  by  sending  dispatches  to  all  points 
on  the  plains  where  there  was  any  chance  of  their  stopping. 
Among  other  places  to  which  he  sent  these  descriptions  was  Sid- 
ney, Neb.,  and  he  had  the  satisfaction  a  very  few  days  after- 
wards of  receiving  from  Deputy  Sheriff  H.  H.  Tigart,  of  that 
place,  a  telegram,  saying.  "We've  got  your  man  Witherill.  What 
shall  we  do  with  him?  Wight  gone  on  to  North  Platte.*'  In  re- 
ply. Cook  instructed  the  officer  to  hold  Witherill,  and  he  and 
Smith,  who  had  returned  by  this  time,  were  off  on  the  next  mon- 
ing's  train  for  Sidney.  This  was  on  the  Friday  succeeding  the 
flight  of  the  two.  Saturday  night  carried  them  to  Sidney,  where 
they  learned  the  facts  of  the  capture. 

If  all  the  facts  in  the  flight  of  these  two  hardened  men  from 
the  pursuit  of  justice  could  be  known  they  would  make  as  thrill- 
ing a  story  as  ever  had  its  foundation  on  our  barren  prairies. 
Compelled  to  steal  horses,  guns  and  provisions,  with  three 
hundred  miles  of  what  was  then  a  desert  lying  before  them,  no 
friendly  shelter  offering,  with  the  probability  of  encountering 
savage  tribes  of  Indians  at  any  time;  with  the  knowledge  that 
when  they  should  seek  shelter  in  the  habitable  part  of  the  world 


1^90  THE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY. 

towards  wbicli  they  were  making  their  way.  they  would  do  so 
at  the  risk  of  their  lives — with  these  thoughts  confronting  them 
as  to  the  hardships  before  them  and  the  ofiicers  following  their 
trail  from  behind,  they  were  certainly  between  two  fires.  Let  us 
lu)i)e,  too,  for  the  sake  of  humanity  that  there  still  lingered  in 
their  minds  some  degree  of  remorse  for  the  foul  deed  they  had 
committed— that  occasionally,  when  left  to  themselves  on  the 
boundless  plains,  with  naught  between  them  and  the  heavens, 
there  occasionally  flitted  through  their  minds  some  degree  of  bit- 
terness of  feeling,  some  (juestioning  of  conscience  as  to  the  bloody 
and  unprovoked  deed  they  had  committed. 

Their  flight  seems  to  have  been  an  alternation  of  mad  rides 
and  of  skulking  hides.  We  find  them,  according  to  their  own 
accounts,  putting  in  the  day  lying  quiet  or  seeking  their  way  over 
the  roadless  plains'Avhere  they  were  certain  to  encounter  no  one. 
and  during  the  night  riding  madly  forward  towards  the  eastern 
horizon,  where  was  the  only  ray  of  hope,  small  as  it  was,  that 
shone  for  them. 

The  fifth  day  out  they  ran  into  a  large  herd  of  buffalo,  while 
riding  over  the  prairie.  They  decided  to  relieve  the  tedium  that 
suri'ounded  their  almost  blank  existence  by  having  a  little  sport 
with  the  bison  and  at  the  same  time  capture  some  fresh  meat. 
Tlie^'  shot  into  the  herd,  taking  aim  at  a  particularly  large  old 
bull,  and  wounding  him  so  badly  that  w'hen  the  others  of  his  herd 
ran  off  he  was  unable  to  keep  pace  with  them  and  was  left  be- 
hind. Wight  and  Witherill  put  spurs  to  their  horses,  rushing 
across  the  open  plain  with  the  speed  of  the  wind  and  firing  at  the 
wounded  and  faltering  animal  as  they  went,  very  much,  indeed, 
as  they  had  pursued  poor  Wall  when  they  sought  to  take  his  life 
as  they  now  sought  to  take  that  of  the  crippled  bison  who  ran 
before  them.  He  at  first  seemed  destined  to  evade  them,  as  their 
human  victim  had  done,  but,  like  Wall,  had  at  last  faltered  and 
so  slowed  up  as  to  permit  himself  to  be  overtaken. 

In  their  impetuosity,  they  had  rushed  upon  the  animal  until 
they  could  almost  touch  him  with  the  muzzles  of  their  fire  arms. 
^^'ight  had  reigned  his  horse  up  by  the  side  of  the  animal,  which 
had  come  to  bay,  and  was  preparing  to  shoot,  when  Witherill 
came  up  behind  and  landed  a  bullet  from  his  weapon  in  the  back 


THE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY.  |93 

of  tlie  bull.  The  animal  roared  with  pain,  and  snorting  and  shoot- 
ing fire  out  of  his  eyes,  made  a  desperate  plunge  at  the  horse  and 
rider  by  his  side.  Wight  pulled  up  his  horse  hastily,  but  not 
soon  enough  to  avoid  the  blow.  The  bison's  horn  struck  him  on 
the  shin  and.  short  and  dull-pointed  as  it  was,  cut  its  way  to 
the  bone,  ripping  open  the  flesh  of  the  calf  of  the  leg  all  the  way  to 
the  knee,  and  tearing  the  sinews  out,  making  a  very  ugly  and 
painful  wound.  The  blood  spurted  out  so  as  to  almost  blind  the 
brute,  which  did  not,  however,  cease  its  attack.  Wight  managed 
to  spur  up  his  horse,  the  animal  having  been  protected  from  the 
bull's  horn  by  its  rider's  leg,  and  he  and  his  ''brave"  partner,  al- 
though they  had  had  courage  enough  to  shoot  down  a  defenseless 
man,  found  themselves  unable  to  stand  before  this  specimen  of 
brutal  anger  and  rode  oft"  as  rapidly  as  they  could,  leaving  the 
field  to  the  wounded  buffalo. 

The  entire  herd  had  stopped  on  a  distant  hill,  and  many  of 
them  stood  looking  back  as  if  they  enjoyed  the  spectacle  of  the 
fight,  which  must  have  been  at  least  equal  to  the  scene  of  a  Span- 
ish bull  fight.  But  the  men  were  too  much  put  out  to  further 
enjoy  the  sport,  and,  binding  up  Wight's  leg  as  best  they  could, 
they  found  their  way  as  speedily  as  possible  to  a  ranchman's 
home  on  the  Platte.  They  represented  themselves  as  hunters, 
and  asked  to  be  allowed  to  remain  until  Wighl;  should  recover 
from  his  wound.  Here  they  remained  for  two  days,  but  gangrene 
setting  in  in  the  wound,  they  decided  to  take  the  chances  and 
seek  a  point  at  which  medicines  and  medical  aid  could  be  pro 
cured.  Hence  they  set  off  for  the  settlements  along  the  Union 
Pacific  railroad,  coming  first  to  Julesburg,  where  Witherill 
stopped  with  the  horses,  and  where  he  put  Wight  on  a  train  and 
sent  him  to  North  Platte,  still  further  down  the  road,  it  being 
Witherill's  intention  the  next  morning  to  follow  with  the  prop- 
erty. 

But  Chief  Cook's  messages  had  gotten  in  ahead  of  the  men. 
and  Deputy  Tigart,  of  Sidney,  Neb.,  having  received  a  descrip- 
tion of  Witherill,  proceeded  on  the  very  evening  after  his  arrival 
to  Julesburg,  a  few  miles  distant  from  his  home  in  Sidney,  to 
arrest  the  fugitive.  The  officers  waited  for  night  to  come  on, 
and  went  after  him  when  he  was  supposed  to  be  asleep.    They 


194  'THE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY. 

found  him  in  a  barn,  with  his  arms  lying  about  him.  He  was  at 
first  disposed  to  resist  capture,  but  discovering  that  he  was  well 
surrounded,  he  surrendered.  The  prisoner  at  first  denied  that  his 
name  was  Witherill,  and  said  that  he  was  one  William  Jackson, 
but  ultimately  confessed,  and  then  told  of  the  whereabouts  of 
Wight,  who,  he  declared,  was  as  much  to  blame  as  was  he 
(Witherill). 

Gen.  Cook  and  Mr.  Smith,  when  they  arrived  at  Sidney,  found 
Witherill  safe  in  hand,  and  as  he  had  been  captured  in  Colorado 
territory  there  was  no  trouble  about  him.  Wight  was  known  to 
be  in  North  Platte,  Neb.,  and  it  was  feared  that  he  could  not 
be  gotten  away  without  a  requisition;  hence  Gen.  Cook  placed  a 
hundred  dollar  bill  in  Tigart's  hands  and  told  him  to  go  after 
Wight.  That  officer  boarded  the  next  west-bound  train,  and  the 
following  morning  brought  him  into  Sidney  with  the  wounded 
man,  who  had  been  taken  without  much  trouble. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

WIGHT'S  COMPLICITY  FULLY  ESTABLISHED— THE  STORY  THAT  THE 
CRIMINALS  TOLD— A  HORRIBLE  RECITAL  OF  COLD-BLOODED' 
MURDER  BY  WITHERILL— WIGHT  GOES  TO  THE  PENITENTIARY 
FOR  SEVEN  YEARS  AND  WITHERILL  FOR  LIFE— THE  FORMER, 
ENGAGES  IN  SEVERAL  ESCAPADES  AND  WINDS  UP  WITH  A  MYS- 
TERIOUS LETTER  TO  GEN.  COOK,  OF  RECENT  DATE— A  COCK- 
AND-BULL  STORY  OF  A   HIDDEN   FORTUNE. 

Up  to  this  time  Wight's  connection  with  the  affair  had  been, 
only  a  matter  of  surmise,  but  Witherill  talked  freely.  According 
to  Witherill's  story  told  at  this  time,  Wight  had  been  the  guilty 
party,  and  Witherill  himself  had  been  as  pure  and  guiltless  as  if 
he  had  never  seen  Wall.  He  said  on  the  day  of  the  murder  he 
'eft  Melvin's,  where  he  had  been  at  work,  saddled  his  horse,  and 
?vent  over  to  Wall's  camp.  Wall  had  a  small  tent  or  cabin  built 
down  in  the  gulch  and  concealed  from  view  by  willows  grown- 
Lhick  on  each  side  of  it.  When  he  got  up  to  the  tent  door  he- 
found  Wall  and  Wight  quarreling.  Wall  accused  Wight  of  hav- 
ing taken  his  pocketbook  that  day,  while  he  was  away  from, 
home.  After  further  hot  words,  Wight  came  out,  and  taking  hold 
of  Witherill's  Henry  rifle,  asked  him  if  it  was  loaded.  Witherill 
told  him  it  had  a  shell  in  the  barrel,  at  the  same  time  getting 
off  his  horse  and  hitching.  Wight  sprung  the  lever,  threw  the 
shell  out,  and  loaded  the  gun.  Wall  came  out  and  sat  down  on 
a  rock  close  to  the  tent  door.  Wight  set  down  Witherill's  gun 
and  picked  up  Wall's,  and  quickly  raising  it  fired  at  Wall,  the 
ball  taking  effect  in  the  neck.  The  wounded  man  dropped,  and 
presently  raising  again,  said:  ''Wight,  you've  shot  me."  Wight 
then  dropped  the  gun,  and  taking  up  Witherill's  rifle,  shot  Wall' 
again  and  again  in  the  head  and  body  until  he  was  dead.  AIJ 
this  while  Witherill  stood  dumbfounded.  He  didn't  know  what 
to  do.  He  went  to  untie  his  horse  to  leave,  when  Wight  pre 
sented  the  gun  at  him  and  told  him  not  to  leave  or  he  would 
put  a  hole  through  him.    AYight  then  went  into  Wall's  pockets. 


IQQ  '  THE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY. 

took  out  his  watch  and  handed  it  to  Witherill,  also  a  draft. 
The  latter  he  isn't  certain  whether  he  took  from  Wall's  or  his 
own  pocket.  Witherill  did  not  see  Wall's  pocketbook  at  all. 
After  this  the  two  men  arranged  to  sell  the  sheep  and  divide  the 
spoils.  Wight  also  proceeded  to  write  out  a  bill  of  sale  of  the 
sheep,  from  Wall  to  Witherill.  Before  they  left,  Witherill  gave 
Wight  $25  in  money,  and  the  latter  said  he  would  dispose  of  the 
body  and  clean  up  the  traces  around.  All  this  time  Wight  was  as 
cool  and  possessed  as  if  it  was  an  everyday  job  with  him.  With- 
erill then  rode  away  and  never  saw  the  body  again. 

Wight  refused  to  talk,  simply  saying  that  if  there  had  been 
any  murder  committed,  Witherill  was  the  guilty  man. 

The  two  men  were  securely  ironed  and  brought  to  Denver, 
where  they  were  placed  in  jail.  Two  months  afterwards  they 
were  tried  at  Evans  before  Judge  E.  T.  Wells,  having  obtained 
a  change  of  venue  from  Frankstown,  then  the  county  seat  of 
Douglas  county.  Owing  to  technical  defects  in  the  law,  both 
escaped  the  death  at  the  gallows  which  they  so  much  deserved. 
Indeed,  as  Wight's  complicity  was  not  established  by  any  evi- 
dence except  the  testimony  of  Witherill,  he  was  allowed  to  go  on 
a  bond  of  |2,000,  on  the  charge  of  horse  stealing,  notwithstand- 
ing all  were  satisfied  that  he  had  been  as  guilty  of  murder  as 
Witherill,  if  indeed  he  had  not  been  the  instigator  of  the  whole 
plot,  but  he  had  been  shrewd  enough  to  make  a  tool  of  his  chum 
and  to  remain  in  the  background  himself.  Witherill  was  sen- 
tenced to  a  life  term  in  the  penitentiary.  After  the  trial  he 
made  a  full  confession  to  Gen.  Cook,  which,  while  it  is  at  fault 
in  some  details,  is  doubtless  correct  in  the  main,  and  so  interest- 
ing throughout  that  it  is  here  given  in  detail,  as  follows: 

"Some  time  during  the  week  previous  to  the  murder,  17th  of 
September  last,  E.  E.  Wight  came  over  to  where  I  was,  and  inti- 
mated this  murder,  and  it  was  arranged  between  us  that  I  should 
come  over  to  his  house  on  Sunday,  the  17th  of  September.  I 
went.  He  was  to  watch  for  me  and  meet  me  somewhere  on  the 
road — if  he  could  see  me — near  the  sheep  herder's  grounds.  I 
met  him  near  the  sheep  herder's  tent.  The  sheep  herder  wasn't 
at  his  tent;  he  was  with  his  sheep  back  on  the  bluffs.    We  went 


THE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY,  197 

out  there  and  found  him.  Wight  was  on  foot  and  I  was  on 
horseback.  We  found  him  soon  after  we  got  on  the  bluff  or  table 
land.  I  then  gave  my  gun  to  Wight  to  shoot  him.  When  we 
came  up  we  passed  the  time  of  day  and  held  a  short  conversation 
about  various  things — nothing  pertaining  to  this.  As  the  sheep 
herder  turned  to  go  away,  Wight  spoke  to  him,  and  Wall  turned 
his  head  toward  us  and  then  Wight  fired  at  him.  The  man  Wall 
fell  instantly;  then  he  got  up  and  ran  down  into  the  gulch;  Wight 
followed  him  and  fired  at  him  several  times;  I  judge  that  he  hit 
him,  though  I  couldn't  say.  He  stumbled  and  fell  several  times 
while  going  down  the  hill.  He  had  on  his  hat  as  he  was  running 
down  hill  towards  the  gulch ;  the  next  time  I  saw  him  he  didn't 
have  on  his  hat.  I  didn't  see  the  hat  any  more  until  I  saw  it  in 
court  at  Evans.  I  followed  after  Wight — or  near  to  him — down 
the  hill.  Wight  and  I  followed  along  on  the  bank  of  the  gulch; 
Wight  fired  at  him  whenever  opportunity  offered.  We  couldn't 
see  him  all  the  time,  as  Wall  was  running  in  the  bed  of  the 
gulch.  Wall  soon  got  faint  and  sat  down,  from  loss  of  blood; 
when  I  saw  him  sit  down  I  got  off  my  horse  and  hitched  him; 
Wight  and  I  then  went  down  into  the  bed  of  the  gulch  where 
Wall  was  sitting.  Wall  said  as  we  approached,  'What  have  1 
done?'  We  made  no  reply.  Wight  then  struck  him  with  the 
barrel  of  the  gun  on  the  left  side  of  the  head,  I  should  judge, 
perhaps,  above  the  ear.  One  side  of  his  face  and  his  bosom  were 
covered  with  blood.  He  fell,  and  I  think  the  blow  from  the  gun 
killed  him;  he  died  within  two  or  three  minutes  after  being 
struck.  We  examined  his  pockets  and  took  out  his  pocketbook 
and  watch.  The  pocketbook  contained  about  twelve  dollars  in 
money  and  a  certificate  of  deposit  for  three  hundred  dollars  at 
Warren  Hussey's  bank,  in  Denver. 

"Then  we  left  the  body  lay  where  it  had  fallen  and  covered 
it  up  with  rocks  first  and  dirt  afterward.  We  then  returned  to 
the  sheep  herder's  tent,  and  as  we  went  we  arranged  between  us 
that  I  should  take  his  sheep  and  herd  them;  I  was  to  sell  them 
as  soon  as  possible,  and  divide  the  money  between  us.  In  order 
to  get  a  bill  of  sale  for  them,  he  agreed  to  meet  me  in  Denver 
the  next  day  and  have  the  bill  of  sale  made  out  for  me.  While 
at  the  tent  we  hid  his  diary,  with  such  papers  as  it  contained, 


X9S  I'HE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY. 

and  also  his  gun,  near  the  tent.  We  separated  there,  then,  and  I 
returned  to  Melvin's  and  he  started  towards  McCool's  ranch.  I 
think  we  reached  the  tent,  previous  to  the  murder,  about  3  o'clock 
p.  m.,  and  we  finally  separated  a  little  after  4  o'clock,  I  should 
sa3^,  though  we  had  no  time,  as  the  watch  taken  from  Wall's 
pocket  had  run  down.  The  next  morning  I  came  to  Denver;  I 
looked  around  for  Wight,  but  couldn't  find  him.  Then  I  went  to 
•an  office  in  Feuerstein's  building,  adjoining  the  land  office,  and 
asked  the  lawj^er  to  make  me  out  a  bill  of  sale.  He  made  it  out 
according  to  my  directions.  I  signed  Wall's  name  to  it.  I  took 
the  bill  of  sale  and  went  directly  home  to  Melvin's.  I  went  the 
next  day  over  to  Wall's  camp,  and  got  the  sheep  together,  and 
-assumed  responsibility  of  their  charge.  A  few  days  afterwards 
I  came  to  Denver  and  advertised  the  sheep  for  sale  in  the  Rocky 
Mountain  Netvs.  I  started  back  home  again  that  night.  1  stayed 
•at  LeFevre's  ranch  that  night.  I  met  Wight  there ;  that  was  the 
first  time  I  had  seen  him  since  we  separated  on  the  day  of  the 
murder.  Wight  and  I  had  some  conversations  about  my  having 
advertised  the  sheep.  A  week  or  more  elapsed,  during  which  time 
I  was  herding  the  sheep  and  Wight  was  building  a  house  for  Le- 
Fevre.  The  next  time  we  met  was  on  Sunday,  at  the  camp  where 
I  was  stopping. 

"During  this  time  Doolittle's  sheep  were  roaming  on  Big  Dry. 
On  the  Sunday  when  we  met  Wight  spoke  to  me  about  Doolittle's 
sheep.  I  went  early  next  morning  and  drove  them  to  where  our 
own  were.  I  stayed  with  the  sheep  that  day  and  kept  them 
together.  The  next  day  I  made  an  excuse  to  go  down  to  LeFevre's 
camp.  I  told  Wight  that  I  had  them  together,  and  about  how 
many  I  judged  there  were.  I  told  him  I  thought  there  were 
about  six  hundred  of  Doolittle's.  Wight  wanted  that  I  should 
go  and  get  another  bill  of  sale  made  out;  I  did  not  do  it.  He 
then  took  from  me  the  other  bill  of  sale,  and  between  that  and 
our  next  meeting  he  changed  and  altered  it  so  as  to  cover  six 
hundred  and  forty  head,  instead  of  three  hundred  and  forty,  as 
it  was  originally  made  out.  I  didn't  like  it;  it  was  made  out 
badly;  it  would  be  easily  detected,  and  I  spoke  to  him  about  it. 
We  then  arranged  it  between  us  that  I  should  come  to  town  and 
get  two  made  out  separate,  one  for  three  hundred  and  forty  head, 


THE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY.  J  99 

and  another  for  four  hundred.  I  went  to  Mr.  Witter's  office  in 
Denver  and  had  both  bills  made  out.  Before  I  started  home  again 
I  heard  that  six  hundred  and  fifty  head  of  sheep  were  missing  on 
Cherry  creek.  I  left  word  with  Loustellot,  in  Denver,  that  if  any 
sheep  were  missing  there  were  some  stray  ones  at  the  head  of 
Big  Dry.  I  also  told  Mr.  Powers  that  there  were  some  stray 
sheep  up  where  I  was  stopping.  I  went  back  home  then  to  Mc- 
Cool's  ranch.  Two  days  afterwards  Doolittle,  having  heard  that 
there  were  stray  sheep  there,  came  out  there  from  Denver.  I 
claimed  to  him  to  have  seven  hundred  and  forty  head  of  sheep. 
We  corraled  them  and  counted  them.  They  numbered  nine  hun- 
dred and  eighty-eight  head,  and  he  claimed  all  over  the  seven 
hundred  and  forty  head.  Because  I  told  of  there  being  stray 
sheep  up  there,  Wight  got  mad.  He  some  time  afterward  told 
me  that  he  came  to  Denver  and  told  Doolittle  that  all  of  his 
sheep  were  there. 

"The  next  dav  after  Doolittle  had  been  so  informed,  Hopkins 
came  out  and  arrested  me,  charged  with  stealing  sheep.  Hopkins 
brought  me  into  town,  and  on  the  next  day  Hopkins,  Doolittle 
and  I  went  out  to  the  Twelve-mile  house,  to  where  the  sheep  had 
been  driven,  and  I  delivered  to  him  the  sheep  he  claimed.  I  set- 
tled with  Doolittle  and  was  discharged.  I  explained  to  Doolittle 
that  the  sheep  claimed  by  him  I  had  bought  from  Wall,  and  that 
I  had  a  bill  of  sale,  and  the  officer  discharged  me  because  he 
thought  I  had  not  stolen  the  stock.  I  was  discharged  in  Denver, 
aod  went  right  back  to  McCool's  rancho.  When  I  got  there 
Wight  was  there,  and  he  told  me  of  having  had  some  conversa- 
tion with  Sheriff  Cook,  and  that  Cook  suspected  that  I  had  mur- 
dered Wall,  and  he  was  about  to  arrest  me.  Wight  thought  we 
had  better  leave  the  country.  It  was  arranged  that  we  were  to 
leave  as  soon  as  possible.  We  went  the  next  day  to  Mr.  Melvin's, 
where  I  was  to  receive  some  cows  I  had  traded  sheep  for.  We 
didn't  get  the  cows  that  day,  and  stayed  there  that  night.  Next 
morning  we  went  back  to  McCool's  rancho.  The  day  after,  Wight 
came  to  town  with  LeFevre's  hired  man,  and  brought  his  box  of 
clothing  with  him.  I  came  to  Denver  via  Twelve-mile  house, 
kaving  sent  my  trunk  to  town.  Wight  and  I  took  our  box  and 
trunk  to  the  Denver  Pacific  depot  and  shipped  them  to  Nebraska 


200  'J^HE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY. 

City.  I  shipped  my  trunk  in  the  name  of  William  Jackson;  he 
shipped  in  the  name  of  E,  E.  Fox.  After  shipping  our  goods 
Wight  traded  a  shotgun  which  he  had  stolen  from  Bates,  on  the 
I'ancho,  for  a  Winchester  rifle,  and  we  bought  some  ammunition 
and  a  field-glass.  I  saw  Marshal  Hopkins  coming  down  the  street 
towards  me,  and  I  started  down  the  street  away  from  him,  tak- 
ing a  roundabout  route  to  Bailey's  corral,  where  my  horse  was. 
I  then  rode  over  to  Kood's  gun-shop  and  got  my  gun,  which  had 
been  left  for  repairs.  I  then  went  back  to  McCool's  rancho.  I 
had  been  there  about  an  hour  when  Wight  came.  He  brought  a 
saddle  with  him,  which  he  said  he  had  stolen  from  William 
Wulff.  We  had  intended  to  have  left  the  country  that  night,  but 
could  not  find  the  horses  we  intended  to  steal,  and  also  expected 
Webster  over  to  buy  some  cows  which  I  had  bargained  to  him. 
Next  morning  Mr.  Webster  came.  I  let  him  have  eight  cows  to 
sell  on  commission.  They  were  branded  *W'  back  of  the  left 
shoulder.  He  advanced  me  |21  on  the  cows.  The  remainder  he 
was  to  send  me  when  I  should  furnish  him  my  address  and  the 
cows  had  been  sold  to  the  best  advantage,  less  his  commission. 
He  also  cashed  an  order  of  his  given  me  by  Freeman.  I  also  gave 
Webster  an  order  for  |72  and  some  cents,  which  he  was  to  send 
when  collected,  with  the  money  received  for  the  cows.  Webster 
informed  me  that  I  was  accused  of  murder,  and  that  I  had  better 
look  out  for  myself,  as  Sheriff  Cook  had  written  to  the  sheriff  of 
Douglas  county  that  he  had  better  arrest  me.  He  described  the 
sheriff  of  Douglas  county  to  me  before  we  parted.  Wight  and  i 
then  left  and  went  down  on  Plum  creek.  We  got  back  to  Mc- 
Cool's rancho  about  dark.  We  got  what  things  we  wanted  to 
take  with  us,  and  McCool's  mare.  Wight  took  a  horse  from 
William  Underwood,  and  I  told  him  he  ought  to  be  ashamed  to 
steal  from  a  one-armed  man.  He  then  turned  the  horse  loose, 
and  we  started  for  Denver,  passing  through  about  midnight,  on 
our  way  to  Johnson's  island  [Henderson's  island],  where  we  ex- 
pected to  get  two  more  horses  from  McCool.  We  stopped  about 
six  miles  from  town  and  rested  our  horses.  At  about  daylight  we 
again  started,  arriving  at  Johnson's  island  about  9  o'clock  a.  m., 
where  we  took  breakfast.  We  stayed  there  in  the  brush  until- 
about  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,   then   left  our  horses  and 


THE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY.  201 

started  back  on  foot  towards  McCooFs  rancho.  When  we  got 
there  we  could  not  find  the  horses  we  were  in  search  of.  Wight 
thought  we  were  seen,  and  about  dark  we  started  back,  and  I 
stole  the  black  mare.  We  then  started  down  the  Platte  and  ar- 
rived at  Evans  soon  after  daylight.  We  left  there,  traveling 
down  the  Platte,  and  traded  off  McCool's  mare  at  a  rancho  six 
miles  below  old  Fort  ^lorgan.  A  few  days  after,  Wight  got  hurt 
while  chasing  a  buffalo.  We  then  had  to  lay  over  three  days  at 
Moore's  rancho.  We  left  there  and  went  to  Julesburg.  I  bought 
Wight  a  ticket  and  gave  him  $5,  and  sent  him  to  North  Platte 
City,  and  I  stayed  in  Julesburg  that  night,  and  was  arrested  and 
brought  to  Sidney  the  next  day,  where  I  was  kept  until  Sheriffs 
Cook  and  Smith  came  for  me." 

Wight  remained  in  jail  in  Denver  several  months  after  his 
partner  in  crime  had  been  sent  to  Caiion  City,  awaiting  his  trial. 
While  in  the  Arapahoe  jail  he  made  a  desperate  effort  to  escape, 
taking  a  prominent  part  in  the  Oris  wold  emeute,  the  story  of 
which  affair  will  be  found  succeeding  this  chapter.  His  trial 
took  place  at  Golden,  the  prisoner  having  obtained  a  change  of 
venue,  and  resulted  in  a  sentence  of  seven  years  at  hard  labor  in 
the  penitentiary.  He  is  still  at  Caiion  City.  He  might  now  be  a 
free  man,  had  not  his  propensity  to  escai)e  from  prison  prolonged 
his  term  of  incarceration.  After  remaining  for  two  years  in  the 
state  penitentiary  he  contrived  to  get  away,  and,  evading  all  pur- 
suit, was  not  overtaken  for  four  years,  when  he  was  spotted  and 
captured  away  down  in  Maine.  He  was  returned  to  Colorado 
and,  as  stated  above,  is  now  serving  out  the  sentence  which  might 
have  been  completed  ere  this  but  for  his  desire  to  escape. 

Even  to  the  present  time  his  old  tendency  to  intrigue  has  not 
failed  to  assert  itself.  Since  his  imprisonment  began  he  has 
made  numerous  efforts  to  secure  his  release  and  that  of  Witherill 
as  well.  It  has  been  but  a  short  while  since  Gen.  Cook  received 
the  following  letter,  which  he  is  convinced  was  written  by  Wight: 

Penitentiary,  Caiion  City, 

December  21.  1881. 
Hon.  David  Cook,  Denver,  Colorado: 

Dear  General — Mv  attention  was  latelv  attracted  to  an  arti- 
cle  in  a  Denver  paper,  wherein  you  expressed  a  knowledge  of  the 


202  '^HE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY. 

fact  that  George  Witherill,  who  is  here  serving  a  life  sentence, 
used  to  drive  a  stage  in  Utah.  Three  years  ago  the  writer  became 
somewhat  acquainted  with  a  man  in  Kansas  City,  who  related  to 
him  the  following  story,  in  which  the  said  George  Witherill  plays 
a  most  prominent  part,  and  every  word  of  which  I  have  good  and 
sufficient  reasons  for  believing  as  true.  In  the  winter  of  the  year 
1870  this  man,  by  name  Edward  Neal,  was  stock  tender  for  the 
stage  company  at  Corrinne,  Utah.  One  day  a  man  came  to  the 
stable  and  took  an  extra  team  and  a  Concord  wagon  for  the  pur- 
pose of  going  up  to  meet  the  coach,  which  he  did  some  miles 
above  Brigham  City.  At  that  moment  he  was  joined  by  another 
man,  a  passenger  on  the  coach,  and  they  two  immediately  arrested 
three  other  men,  who  were  also  passengers,  taking  them  from 
the  coach  and  calling  for  their  baggage.  The  prisoners  did  not 
claim  it,  and  the  coach  drove  on  around  by  Brigham  City  for 
the  purpose  of  leaving  the  mail  there,  allowing  the  two  detectives 
(for  such  the  two  parties  first  referred  to  claimed  to  be)  with  their 
prisoners  to  reach  Corrinne  before  the  coach.  The  captives  were 
then  taken  to  a  lonely  cabin  and  tortured,  with  the  result  that 
they  confessed  to  being  road  agents  on  their  way  to  the  states, 
with  the  proceeds  of  more  than  a  dozen  stage  robberies;  further, 
that  all  the  money  was  on  the  coach.  Meantime  the  coach,  ar- 
riving at  Corrinne,  drove  to  the  express  office  and  unloaded  every- 
thing except  a  rough  box,  an  old  trunk  and  a  gunny  sack,  all  of 
which  the  driver  of  the  coach  knew  belonged  to  the  three  men 
who  had  been  taken  from  the  coach  beyond  Brigham  City.  He 
then  drove  to  the  stable,  and  while  Neal  was  unhitching  the 
coach  team  he  hitched  up  the  team  that  the  detectives  had  used, 
loaded  the  above  articles  into  the  Concord  wagon,  took  a  shovel 
and  left  the  stable,  driving  out  over  the  old  pontoon  bridge. 
This  occurred  at  about  6  p.  m.  The  driver  did  not  return  to  the 
stable  until  about  9  o'clock,  having  been  absent  about  three 
hours.  Just  as  he  was  leaving  the  stable,  however,  to  go  home, 
one  of  the  detectives  came  and  wanted  the  baggage  belonging  to 
the  three  men  who  had  been  taken  from  the  coach  that  day,  say- 
ing that  there  was  more  than  one  hundred  thousand  in 
money  in  the  outfit,  besides  considerable  jewelry,  and  that  he 
would  "whack  up"  with  the  driver  if  he  would  get  it.    This  the 


THE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY.  203 

driver  refused  to  do,  having  safely  secured  and  hid  the  plunder. 
Snow  falling  that  night  obliterated  all  traces  of  the  wagon  track, 
and  the  detectives  never  found  the  stuff.  Being  afraid  of  these 
men,  the  driver  left  Corrinne  immediately,  believing  that  the  so- 
called  detectives  were  only  sharpers,  and  would  do  him  bodily 
harm  if  he  did  not  divulge  the  hiding  place  of  the  treasure.  His 
opinion  of  the  detectives  was  probably  correct,  as  they  also  left 
Corrinne  a  day  or  two  afterwards,  having  made  no  report  at  all 
to  the  stage  company.  The  driver  came  to  Colorado,  and  the 
next  Neal  heard  of  him  was  that  he  was  arrested  for  murder, 
tried,  found  guilty  and  sentenced  to  the  Canon  City  penitentiary 
for  life.  The  driver's  name  was  Witherill,  and  he  is  the  only  man 
living  who  knows  where  that  money  is.  Witherill  probably  went 
on  the  ranch  in  Colorado  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  out  of  sight. 
[  feel  quite  confident  that  this  George  Witherill  here  is  the  man. 
He,  of  course,  keeps  all  this  a  profound  secret;  but  you,  general, 
can  surely  persuade  him  to  tell  you  where  the  stuff  is.  It  can 
not  be  buried  more  than  five  miles  from  Corrinne,  as  Neal  said 
that  the  horses  were  cool  when  he  brought  the;m  back  to  the  barn. 
Now,  can't  you  promise  to  help  him  to  get  out  of  here,  or  some- 
thing of  the  sort,  and  persuade  him  to  tell  us  where  to  find  the 
treasure?  After  he  has  given  the  necessary  information,  let  him 
go  to  the  devil,  for  all  I  care.  Please  let  none  of  the  officers  here 
know  anything  about  all  this,  as  they  would  only  make  a  botch 
of  it,  I  am  sure.  Whatever  you  may  want  to  say  to  me  in  regard 
to  the  matter,  publish  it  as  a  "personal"  in  the  Denver  Tribune, 
addressed  to  "No.  5720,  C.  C."  That  paper  is  accessible  to  me 
here,  and  1  shall  be  sure  to  see  what  you  say.  This  goes  from 
here  on  the  quiet,  so  no  one  will  see  it  but  yourself.  I  have  the 
honor  to  be,  yours  most  respectfully,  NO.  5720,  C.  C. 

It  is  almost  unnecessary  to  state  that  Gen.  Cook  paid  no  at- 
tention whatever  to  this  curious  epistle.  He  did  not  believe  the 
story  told,  and  even  if  he  had,  it  would  not  have  influenced  him 
to  exert  himself  in  behalf  of  the  two  scoundrels  who  murdered 
as  peaceful  a  citizen  as  was  Mr.  Wall.  He  believed  that  both 
Wight  and  Witherill  were  where  they  belonged,  and  considered 
that  he  did  his  duty  in  assisting  in  putting  them  there.  Subse- 
quent events  show  that  they  should  have  been  left  there  for  life, 
as  the  next  chapter  will  show. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

A  FOOL  LEGISLATURE  RELEASES  WITHERILL  AND  \^E  RECOMMENCES 
HIS  CAREER  OF  CRIME— A  SWEDE  MURDERED  FOR  HIS  TEAM 
NEAR  SILVERTON  AND  HIS  BODY  NEVER  FOUND— HE  FINDS  AN- 
OTHER VICTIM— CHAS.  R.  M'CAIN  HIRED  TO  HAUL  ORE,  AND 
MURDERED  BY  WITHERILL— CAPTURED  IN  DENVER— THE  OUT- 
RAGED PEOPLE  OF  CANON  CITY  LYNCH  THE  VILLAIN. 

Among  the  collection  of  laws,  good,  bad  and  indifferent, 
passed  by  the  Colorado  legislature  of  1887,  was  one  which  was 
the  indirect  cause  of  the  death  of  at  least  two  innocent  men.  It 
was  a  law  that  provided  that  a  life  sentence  in  the  penitentiary 
should  be  construed  to  mean  only  sixteen  years,  i.  e.,  that  a  crim- 
inal who  had  been  sentenced  for  life  should  be  released  after  hav- 
ing served  sixteen  years.  There  were  many  ugly  rumors  out  in 
regard  to  the  intents  and  objects  of  the  bill,  but  it  finally  passed 
by  a  small  majority.  It  released  from  Canon  George  R.  Witherill, 
who  was  set  free  April  8,  1887,  and  the  crimes  he  had  committed 
before  the  next  legislature  assembled  caused  that  body  to  repeal 
the  law  with  great  celerity. 

When  the  murderer  of  the  inoffensive  sheep  herder  was  re- 
leased from  the  prison,  he  at  once  came  to  Denver.  While  in  the 
penitentiary  he  had  made  threats  that  he  would  kill  Gen.  Cook  if 
he  ever  got  out,  because,  as  he  said,  Cook  had  on  two  or  three 
occasions  prevented  him  from  securing  a  pardon.  When  Gen. 
Cook  heard  that  Witherill  had  come  back  to  Denver,  he  thought 
that  he  had  come  back  to  carry  out  his  threat,  and  at  once  went 
in  search  of  him.  When  Witherill  heard  that  Cook  was  after 
him,  he  at  once  secured  the  services  of  a  friend  who  had  been  a 
guard  at  the  penitentiary,  and  started  out  to  find  Gen.  Cook  to 
square  the  matter  and  assure  him  that  he  had  no  intention  of 
carrying  out  his  threats.  He  learned  that  Cook  was  in  the 
Brunswick  hotel,  and,  following  his  friend  in  there,  threw  up  his 
hands  the  instant  he  entered  the  door,  begging  the  general  not  to 
shoot  him.    Cook  told  him  that,  knowing  his  sneaking  and  des- 


THE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY.  OQS 

perate  character,  and  the  threats  he  had  made,  he  would  be  fully 
justifiable  in  shooting  him  down  like  a  dog,  but  that  if  he  was 
sincere  in  his  protestations  that  he  wanted  to  live  an  honest  life, 
he  would  let  him  go,  but  added  that  he  had  better  leave  Denver 
to  make  his  attempt. 

Acting  upon  this  advice,  Witherill  left  Denver  for  the  mount- 
ains, and  was  not  heard  of  for  about  a  year  and  a  half,  and  then 
as  the  perpetrator  of  another  cold-blooded  and  atrocious  murder, 
or  rather  two  murders.  As  previously  related,  Witherill  had 
gone  into  the  mines,  first  working  at  Durango  and  afterward  at 
Ironton.  While  at  Ironton  he  formed  the  acquaintance  of  a 
Swede  by  the  name  of  Marinus  Jansen,  who  owned  a  splendid 
four-horse  team  and  a  big  ore  wagon  and  outfit  for  hauling  ore 
from  the  mines.  "SA'itherill  decided  that  Jansen  would  make  an 
easy  victim,  and  so  commenced  negotiations  with  him  to  go  to 
Silverton  to  haul  ore  from  a  mine  in  which  Witherill  claimed  to 
have  an  interest.  That  was  the  last  ever  seen  or  heard  of  poor 
Jansen,  and  his  body  lies  rotting  in  some  abandoned  prospect  hole 
in  a  lonely  mountain  side.  They  had  started  out  early  in  Septem- 
ber, and  toward  the  latter  part  of  the  month  Witherill  drove  the 
outfit  into  Pueblo,  where  he  disposed  of  it  for  |400. 

Having  now  plenty  of  money  to  loaf  around  and  live  well 
for  a  time  without  work,  one  would  naturally  suppose  that  With- 
erill would  refrain  from  crime  for  a  time  at  least,  but  he  appears 
to  have  been  a  maniac  on  the  subject  of  murder,  who  could  not 
resist  the  temptation  to  kill  no  more  than  a  hungry  man  can 
resist  the  temptation  to  eat  when  tempting  viands  are  set  before 
him.  It  would  have  been  a  good  thing  for  the  community  had 
Oen.  Cook  shot  him  in  Denver  before  he  had  time  to  make  his 
Ijing  explanations.  He  lost  no  time  in  seeking  another  victim; 
as  before,  hunting  up  a  laboring  man  with  some  good  teams.  He 
hired  Chas.  K.  McCain,  and  with  him  left  Pueblo  at  9  o'clock  on 
the  morning  of  October  25,  to  go  to  a  point  eleven  miles  west  of 
Canon  City  to  haul  ore.  They  had  two  teams,  both  of  which  be- 
longed to  McCain,  who  resided  in  Pueblo.  Witherill  had  repre- 
sented to  McCain  that  he  was  the  foreman  of  a  heavy  shipping 
mine,  and  would  give  the  Pueblo  man  lucrative  employment  for 


206  '^^^  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY. 

himself  and  teams  to  haul  the  ore  from  the  mine  to  the  railroad 
track. 

The  men  proceeded  with  the  teams  until  night  caught  them, 
at  Beaver  creek  crossing,  eighteen  miles  east  of  Caiion  City,  and 
they  camped.  The  point  where  they  camped  was  not  over  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  house  of  Mr.  Palmer,  one  of  the  com- 
missioners of  Fremont  county.  Both  evidently  lay  down  in  the 
wagons,  McCain  never  to  awaken  in  this  world,  and  Witherill  to 
keep  diabolic  watch  until  his  victim  was  fast  asleep.  Then  he 
crept,  panther-like,  to  where  the  unconscious  man  lay,  and  sent 
a  rifle  bullet  crashing  through  his  brain.  Fearing,  perhaps,  that 
the  wound  was  not  of  a  deadly  nature,  or  because,  possibly,  the 
victim  in  his  dying  struggles  would  alarm  some  one,  the  fiend 
grasped  an  axe  and  pounded  McCain's  head  into  a  mass  of  broken 
bone  and  oozing  brain.  The  closeness  of  the  gun  when  the  shot 
was  fired  was  such  that  the  bullet  passed  entirely  through  Mc- 
Cain's head  and  the  bottom  of  the  wagon,  to  still  retain  enough 
momentum  to  flatten  itself  on  a  stone.  When  found,  it  had  bits 
of  bone  and  the  blanket,  which  McCain  had  evidently  had  his 
head  partially  covered  with,  still  attached  to  it. 

The  fiend  then  proceeded  with  devilish  cunning  to  conceal 
the  body  of  his  victim  and  indications  of,  his  crime.  The  body  he 
carried  or  dragged  into  a  neighboring  ravine  and  deposited  in  a 
ditch.  He  then  covered  it  with  rocks  and  dirt  and  effectually, 
as  he  thought,  hid  from  the  eyes  of  men  the  lifeless  remains.  To 
destroy  the  blood  spots  and  other  indications  of  the  deed,  he 
covered  them  with  hay  and  burned  it.  The  bottom  of  the  wagon 
he  rubbed  with  stones  and  with  hay  to  efface  the  dreadful  evi- 
dences of  his  crime. 

As  coolly  as  if  he  were  upon  an  ordinary  business  mission, 
Witherill  took  McCain's  money  and  drove  both  teams  on  Satur- 
day morning  into  Caiion  City.  He  camped  just  east  of  the  city 
and  then,  going  boldly  into  the  business  part  of  the  town,  he 
wrote  a  letter  addressed  to  McCain's  wife,  in  which  he  personated 
her  husband.  He  informed  her  that  he  had  purchased  a  ranch 
at  Grand  Junction,  Colo.,  and  had  sold  his  teams.  He  asked 
her  to  sell  all  her  household  effects  and  join  him  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible at  the  location  of  their  new  home. 


THE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY. 


207 


Familiar  with  her  husband's  writing,  Mrs.  McCain,  upon  the 
receipt  of  the  letter,  at  once  knew  that  it  was  not  indited  by 
him.  But  that  might  not  have  so  much  alarmed  her  as  the  quick 
intuition  of  her  heart  which  told  her  something  was  dreadfully 
wrong  and  strange  in  this  sudden  change  of  plans  and  unex- 
pected determination  to  move  to  the  western  part  of  the  state- 
and  make  a  new  home.  She  placed  the  matter  before  an  officer, 
and  at  once  the  conclusion  was  reached  that  the  life-sentenced 
murderer  of  Sheepman  Wall  had  added  another  to  his  series  of 
blood-stained  deeds. 

The  alarm  was  at  once  sent  out  and  inquiries  made.  It  was^ 
learned  that  Witherill  had  been  at  Caiion  City  on  Saturday  morn- 
ing. Shortly  after  the  search  began  a  man  was  found  who  knew 
him  and  had  seen  him  on  the  road  to  Denver  with  two  teams. 
On  Wednesday  afternoon,  October  31,  Deputy  Sheriff  Force,  of 
Denver,  received  a  telegram,  informing  him  of  the  mysterious 
disappearance  of  McCain  and  of  the  anxiety  to  apprehend  With- 
erill. Late  the  same  night  the  deputy  found  Witherill  at  Gould- 
ing's  stables.  He  was  surly  in  response  to  questions  and  said 
that  his  name  was  Simon  Cotter.  To  this  Mr.  Force  responded: 
"That  may  be  your  name  now,  but  it  wasn't  Simon  Cotter  or 
Simon  Says-Thumbs-Up  when  I  saw  you  in  the  pen  at  Caiion.'' 
This  knocked  the  bluff  out  of  the  ex-convict  and  he  submitted 
to  arrest  in  silence.  He  refused  to  say  anything  about  the  where- 
abouts of  his  associate  and  went  to  jail.  Upon  being  searched 
the  sum  of  |250  was  found  upon  him. 

Despite  his  effort  to  erase  the  evidences  of  the  ghastly  deed 
there  were  found  blood  stains  in  the  bottom  of  the  wagon.  An 
axe  was  also  found,  which  had  blood  stains  on  the  handle.  The 
presence  of  two  pocketbooks,  a  double  set  of  blankets  and  other 
belongings  of  two  men  among  his  effects  were  also  peculiarly 
suspicious  circumstances.  Yet  with  stolid  effrontery  he  main- 
tained that  he  knew  nothing  about  Chas.  McCain,  and  that  he 
had  left  him  in  Canon  alive  and  well.  In  interviews  with  rep- 
resentatives of  the  press  he  claimed,  in  substance,  that  McCain 
had  business  in  Caiion  and  had  announced  to  him  his  determina- 
tion to  come  to  Denver  and  hence  to  go  East.  On  that  account 
he  had  obeyed  McCain's  request  and  had  driven  both  the  teams 


208 


THE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY. 


to  this  city,  and  expected  him  along.  The  following  morning, 
however,  when  informed  that  the  body  of  McCain  had  been  found, 
he  i-efused  to  say  anything  more. 

Sheriff  Griffith  arrived  in  Denver  on  the  morning  of  Novem- 
ber 2,  and  in  the  afternoon  started  with  his  prisoner  tow^ard 
Canon  City.  The  reports  of  the  determination  to  lynch  the 
prisoner  when  he  arrived  in  Canon  City  were,  however,  the 
cause  of  deterring  the  sheriff  from  going  farther  than  Pueblo. 
VVitherill  was  incarcerated  there  a  few  days,  and  then  again 
quietly  returned  to  the  Arapahoe  county  jail.  It  was  only  when 
there  was  no  help  for  it,  and  when  it  became  impracticable  to 
longer  keep  him  there,  that  Witherill  w^as  at  length  taken  to 
(iaiion.  The  greatest  precautions  were  taken  to  convey  him 
there  quietly.  He  was  placed  in  a  Kio  Grande  baggage  car, 
securely  manacled,  and  taken  from  the  train  five  miles  from 
Cafion  City.  From  that  point  he  was  taken  to  the  city  in  a  close 
carriage  and  locked  in  a  steel  cell.  It  was  believed  that  so 
secretly  had  the  transfer  been  made  that  no  information  would 
leak  out.  In  this  the  officers  were  mistaken,  for  it  soon  became 
apparent  that  every  one  in  CaSon  knew  that  at  last  the  fiend 
whom  they  had  determined  to  rid  the  world  of  was  within  their 
reach. 

It  was  the  3d  of  December  when  Witherill  was  taken  to 
Caiion,  and  the  next  morning  news  was  received  in  Denver  that 
he  had  been  lynched  to  a  telephone  pole  on  Main  street,  within 
a  stone's  throw  of  the  penitentiary  where  he  had  spent  fifteen 
years  of  his  life. 

The  night  of  the  tragedy  was  cold,  dark  and  still.  It  was 
not  until  6  o'clock  that  the  information  of  Witherill's  arrival 
was  obtained,  and  the  fact  was  not  assured  until  about  mid- 
night. All  night  the  streets  were  alive  with  men,  and  the  pros- 
pect of  a  lynching  was  the  only  subject  of  discussion.  The  ter- 
rible details  of  the  McCain  murder  were  discussed,  and  the  spec- 
tacle of  the  grief-stricken  wife  weeping  over  her  husband's  man- 
gled remains  was  called  to  mind  as  demanding  sure  and  speedy 
vengeance.  Little  knots  of  men  assembled  on  street  corners  and 
in  doorways  recounting  the  infallible  evidences  of  Witherill's 
guilt,  each  man  sitting  in  judgment  upon  the  ex-convict.     All 


*' 
S"":. 


■■■:■  .  ■■■       '.'     ■'■i    ■■      4  sv^^rrS'vsijffiiK 


THE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY. 


211 


this  time  the  real  organized  lynchers  were  secretly  and  silently 
at  work.  Masks  were  provided  for  the  entire  part^'  and  every 
preparation  made  for  the  attack.  Two  of  their  party  knocked 
at  the  back  door  of  the  jail,  and  when  Sheriff  Griffith  opened  the 
door  sprang  upon  him  and  throttled  him  without  making  a 
sound. 

After  the  sheriff  had  been  put  out  of  the  way,  the  crowd  of 
masked  lynchers  filed  into  the  jail  and  secured  the  keys  to  the 
cells  from  the  sheriff's  son. 

The  dim  light  burning  in  the  jail  revealed  Witherill  in  his 
cell,  standing  upon  the  defensive.  He  was  ordered  to  come  out, 
and  cried  out : 

*'Come  in  and  take  me  out."' 

He  had  broken  his  wooden  bedstead  to  pieces  to  secure  a 
weapon,  and  when  some  of  the  party  stepped  forward  to  take 
him  at  his  w'ord  he  used  .the  club  with  the  desperate  energy  of 
a  doomed  man.  There  is  no  telling  how  long  Witherill  might 
have  held  his  own  against  superior  numbers  had  not  one  of  the 
attacking  party  drawn  a  revolver  and  shot  the  murderer  in  the 
shoulder,  knocking  him  down.  He  was  then  quickly  overpowered 
and  led  out  of  the  cage,  with  a  noose  around  his  neck  and  his 
hands  secured  behind  his  back. 

Surrounded  by  a  solemn  but  earnest  crowd,  Witherill  was 
marched  down  to  Main*  street  to  a  telephone  pole,  about  one  hun- 
dred yards  from  the  jail.  The  condenmed  man  was  led  to  this 
pole  and  the  rope  thrown  over  the  cross-bar  by  a  practiced  hand, 
and  the  end  of  the  rope  was  grasped  by  fifty  strong  and  willing 
hands.  The  triple  murderer  was  given  a  minute  to  confess.  This 
he  refused  to  do,  and  he  was  drawn  up  five  or  six  feet  from  the 
ground.  After  some  seconds  he  was  lowered  until  his  feet 
touched  the  ground,  and  he  was  asked  to  confess  the  murders  of 
Wall,  Jansen  and  McCain,  and  upon  his  stubborn  refusal  to 
comply  he  was  drawn  up  until  his  feet  cleared  the  ground  by 
some  ten  or  twelve  feet  and  the  rope  tied. 

Witherill's  helpless  body,  dangling  against  the  pole  in  the 
agony  of  death  by  suffocation,  was  watched  by  the  assembled 
crowd  without  a  single  sign  of  pity  or  remorse.  When  satisfied 
that  life  was  extinct  the  crowd  quietly  dispersed  to  conceal 


212  THE  WALL  MURDER  MYSTERY. 

every  evidence   of  t\ie  judgment  of  Judge  Lynch,   except  the 
ghastly  figure  at  the  end  of  the  rope. 

As  soon  as  daylight  came,  the  fact  that  the  anticipated 
lynching  had  been  successfully  accomplished  was  noised  through 
the  town,  and  hundreds  of  men,  women  and  children  went  to  the 
scene  to  view  the  terrible  but  significant  sight.  Old  women  and 
young  girls  stood  in  the  bright  sunlight,  and  gazed  at  the  mur- 
derer's body  swaying  slightly  in  the  morning  breeze,  without  a 
shudder,  and  if  their  looks  could  be  relied  upon  they,  too,  had 
given  Witherill  a  mental  trial  and  found  him  guilty.  In  all  the 
crowd  that  viewed  the  remains  of  the  dead  murderer,  there  were 
none  who  could  forget  the  murders  of  Wall,  and  of  Jansen,  and 
of  McCain,  long  enough  to  pity  the  wretch  who  had  in  a  measure 
paid  the  penalty  of  his  many  crimes. 


A  SLICK  SCOUNDREL. 
CHAPTER  XXIII. 

C.  p.  JUDD,  THIEF  AND  JAILBIRD,  PULLS  THE  WOOL  OVER  THE  EYES 
OF  THE  FIRST  CLEVELAND  ADMINISTRATION  AND  GETS  A  SOFT 
BERTH  IN  THE  LABOR  DEPARTMENT— GEN.  COOK  EXPOSES  THE 
RASCAL,  AND  HE  LOSES  HIS  PLACE  AT  THE  PIE  COUNTER- 
SHOWS  HOW  EASY  IT  IS  TO   FOOL  SOME   PEOPLE. 

One  morning  in  May,  1885,  the  people  of  Colorado  gen- 
erally, and  of  Denver  in  particular,  were  very  greatly  surprised 
to  read  the  announcement  in  the  papers  among  the  Washing- 
ton dispatches,  that  "Hon."  C.  P.  Judd  had  been  appointed  by 
President  Cleveland  agent  and  statistician  for  the  government 
labor  bureau  for  Colorado  and  the  adjacent  territories. 

The  name  of  "Hon.*'  C.  P.  Judd  in  connection  with  dem- 
ocracy in  Colorado  was  totally  unknown,  and  the  fact  that  it 
was  the  first  appointment  made  in  the  state  by  the  new  ad- 
ministration, gave  it  an  added  importance.  Prominent  dem- 
ocratic politicians  were  besieged  with  inquiries  as  to  the  identity 
of  this  new  democratic  star  that  had  so  lately  burst  into  such 
meteoric  brilliance;  their  only  reply  was:  "Don't  know;  never 
heard  of  him  before."  While  the  politicians  were  still  speculat- 
ing, a  reporter  for  the  Denver  Times  happened  to  remember 
that  Gen.  D.  J.  Cook,  of  the  Kocky  Mountain  Detective  Associa- 
tion, knew  almost  everybody  of  any  importance  who  had  ever 
lived  in  Colorado  for  any  length  of  time,  and  to  the  general 
he  went  with  his  inquiry.  He  was  rewarded  with  what  is 
termed  in  newspaper  parlance,  "a  bully  good  story." 

Gen.  Cook  had  known  Judd  for  years.  In  fact,  his  acquaint- 
ance with  the  newly  made  labor  agent  was  so  familiar  that  he 
had  at  one  time  taken  a  trip  to  Caflon  City  with  the  gentleman, 
at  which  time  Mr.  Judd  had  taken  up  his  residence  there  for 
a  period  of  one  year  for  having  appropriated  a  valuable  horse 
and  buggy  belonging  to  a  man  named  Veasey,  living  in  Denver. 


214  A  SLICK  SCOUNDREL. 

This  was  only  one  of  a  long  list  of  crimes  of  which  he  was 
guilty.  He  was  a  born  thief,  with  a  predisposition  Xo  horse- 
flesh, and  had  done  time  in  more  than  one  penal  institution 
for  his  thieving  i)roclivities.  His  first  exploit  in  this  line,  so 
far  as  known,  consisted  in  stealing  a  wagon  load  of  groceries 
and  provisions  from  a  freighter,  who  was  hauling  supplies  from 
Topeka,  Kan.,  to  Fort  Kiley,  at  an  early  day  before  railroads 
were  built  through  that  section.  The  freighter's  horses,  which 
had  been  turned  loose  to  graze  at  night,  had  strayed  away,  and 
while  he  was  away  hunting  them,  along  came  Judd,  who  lived 
near.  There  was  no  one  about  and  he  deemed  it  too  good  a 
chance  to  lose.  Securing  a  team  of  his  own  he  hitched  to  the 
wagon  and  drove  off.  The  owner  soon  returned  with  his  horses,. 
and  finding  the  wagon  gone,  set  out  to  tracking  the  thief,  whom 
he  overtook  after  folloAving  him  fourteen  miles.  Judd  was  con- 
victed and  sentenced  to  the  state  penitentiary  at  Leavenworth 
for  three  years. 

After  serving  his  term  out,  he  decided  that  the  boundless- 
West  afforded  better  opportunities  for  the  exercise  of  his  pe- 
culiar talents,  and  accordingly  he  came  to  Colorado  early  in 
the  '70's. 

When  he  came  to  Denver  he  showed  the  same  fondness  for 
other  people's  property.  In  1871  he  stole  a  horse  and  buckboard 
belonging  to  A.  H.  Jones,  the  liquor  man,  and  in  1872  he  stole 
a  bicycle  or  velocipede  from  a  man  whose  place  of  business  was 
on  Fifteenth  street,  next  door  to  where  Cella's  restaurant  was 
located.  On  both  of  these  charges  he  was  cleared  by  Gen. 
Sam  Browne,  who  proved  to  the  court  that  Judd  was  a  klepto- 
maniac. 

In  1873  he  was  arrested  and  sent  to  the  county  jail  for  one 
year  (there  being  no  state  penitentiary  at  that  time)  for  steal- 
ing a  gold  watch  from  a  lady  in  West  Denver,  at  what  is  known 
as  the  Williams  house.  He'  served  this  sentence  and  was  dis- 
charged on  February  28,  1874.  In  1875  he  was  arrested,  tried, 
convicted  and  sentenced  to  the  state  penitentiary  for  one  year 
for  stealing  a  horse  and  buggy  and  several  hundred  laths  from 
a  man  named  Veasey,  as  related  above.  The  last  crime  he  com- 
mitted before  breaking  into  politics  so  suddenly  and   so   sue- 


A  SLICK  SCOUNDREL.  •_)  ]  5 

cessfullj,  was  the  theft  of  a  horse  and  buggy,  the  property  of 
William  Dingle,  a  Denver  druggist,  on  the  14th  of  October, 
1883,  while  the  rig  was  standing  in  front  of  the  store  of  the 
owner,  in  the  Tabor  block.  He  was  seen  by  several  parties  to 
cross  Cherry  Creek  bridge  at  Larimer  street  and  drive  out  in 
the  country.  The  matter  was  reported  to  the  police,  and  De- 
tective Mart  Watrous  was  put  to  work  on  the  case.  He  went 
to  Judd's  house  and  charged  him  with  the  crime.  After  deny- 
ing it  for  a  time,  Judd  finally  confessed  and  went  with  Watrous, 
gathered  up  the  property  and  turned  it  over  to  the  detective. 

The  horse  had  been  turned  loose  and  wandered  home.  The 
buggy  was  found  in  a  piece  of  woods  down  the  Platte.  A  val- 
uable lap  robe  belonging  to  Mrs.  Dingle  was  found  buried  with 
the  harness  and  the  whip  was  found  in  another  place.  Judd 
was  taken  before  Justice  Sopris. 

While  that  official  was  busily  engaged  in  making  out  the 
warrant,  Judd  slipped  out  of  the  court  room  and  made  his  es- 
cape. After  getting  away  from  Denver,  Judd  went  to  Leadville, 
where  he  succeeded  in  identifying  himself  with  some  labor  or- 
ganization, soon  after  starting  out  on  the  road  as  an  organizer. 
He  traveled  over  the  state  considerably,  and  through  his  con- 
nection with  this  organization  he  was  enabled  to  make  the 
acquaintance  of  several  i)rominent  men,  whose  endorsements 
later  secured  for  him  the  government  position. 

At  the  time  he  was  appointed  to  his  position,  Gen.  D.  J. 
Cook  stated,  in  a  published  interview,  as  related  above,  that 
he  was  the  same  man  that  had  served  several  terms  in  prison 
for  larceny. 

At  the  time  the  interview  was  published,  Hon.  C.  S.  Thomas 
cut  it  out  and  sent  it  to  the  commissioner  of  the  labor  bureau 
at  Washington.  He  shortly  after  received  a  letter  from  the 
coinmissioner,  stating  that  there  was  evidently  some  mistake, 
that  he  had  consulted  with  Mr.  Judd  regarding  the  matter,  and 
that  the  latter  had  stated  to  him  that  there  was  another  C.  P. 
Judd — a  criminal — in  Colorado,  and  that  this  fact  had  frequently 
caused  him  much  annoyance.  Mr.  Thomas  showed  this  letter 
to  Gen.  Cook,  and  the  latter  told  him  to  write  again  to  the 
commissioner,  asking  for  the  appointee's  photograph.    This  was 


21g  A  SLICK  SCOUNDREL. 

done,  and  on  the  22d  of  June  the  commissioner  wrote  in  reply 
that  Judd  had  started  by  a  circuitous  route  for  Colorado,  and 
that  he  would,  at  some  time  during  his  trip,  be  at  Leadville. 
It  was,  therefore,  impossible  for  him  to  secure  his  photograph. 
The  commissioner  further  expressed  the  hope  that  the  Colorado 
officials  would  look  him  up,  and  see  if  he  really  was  the  criminal 
and  fugitive  from  justice,  or  whether  his  story  was  true. 

Gen.  Cook  immediately  went  to  work  on  the  case,  and  in 
a  short  time  was  on  the  track  of  his  man.  Soon  after  this  Judd's 
wife  came  to  Denver  and  stopped  at  the  house  of  a  relative  in 
West  Denver.  The  detectives  began  to  watch  her  and  her  corre- 
spondence.    In  a  few  days  she  received  a  postal  from  Judd, 


dated  Leadville,  telling  her  to  come  to  Alamosa  and  meet  him 
there.  On  learning  of  the  receipt  of  this  postal  by  Mrs.  Judd, 
Gen.  Cook  went  before  Judge  Sopris  and  swore  out  a  warrant 
for  his  arrest  for  stealing  Dingle's  horse  and  buggy.  This  he 
placed  in  the  hands  of  Joe  Smith,  who  happened  to  be  in  the 
city  at  the  time,  and  the  latter  took  the  same  train  with  Mrs. 
Judd  for  Alamosa. 

When  Judd  came  forward  to  meet  his  wife.  Sheriff  Smith 
stepped  up  and  arrested  him.  He  was  not  very  much  discon- 
certed, and  immediately  sent  his  wife  to  Silverton,  where  she 
had  a  sister  living,  and  without  any  further  proceedings  an- 
nounced his  willingness  to  come  to  Denver.  Upon  his  arrival 
in  this  city  he  was  taken  to  Gen.  Cook's  office,  where  he  made 
the  following  statement  in  writing: 

''Denver,  Colo.,  August  12,  1885. 

"This  is  to  bear  witness  that,  whereas,  the  undersigned  was 
appointed  by  Secretary  L.  Q.  C.  Lamar,  a  special  agent  of  the 
bureau  of  labor  on  the  IGth  day  of  May,  A.  D.  1885,  and  was 
thereafter  represented  by  certain  members  of  the  democratic 
party  in  the  state  of  Colorado  as  the  identical  C.  P.  Judd  who 
had  served  a  term  in  the  penitentiary  at  Leavenworth,  Kan., 
in  the  county  jail  of  Arapahoe  county  in  the  state  of  Colorado, 
and  in  the  penitentiary  at  Canon  City  in  said  state;  and, 
whereas,  in  an  interview  with  a  reporter  of  the  Denver  Times 
with  D,  J.  Cook,  superintendent  of  the  Kocky  Mountain  Detec- 
tive Agency,  Gen.  Cook  made  the  above  charges  and  statements 


A  SLICK  SCOUNDREL.  217 

concerning  the  undersigned,  wliich  interview  was  published 
shortly  after  said  appointment,  and  a  copy  thereof  forwarded 
by  C.  S.  Thomas  to  the  interior  department,  at  Washington; 
therefore,  I  hereby  declare  that  the  above  statements  and  charges 
are  correct,  and  that  1  am  the  identical  C.  P.  Judd  referred  to 
In  said  interview  and  in  said  charges.  "C.  P.  JUDD." 

Of  course  after  this  Judd  lost  no  time  in  resigning  the  posi- 
tion, and  Mr.  Dingle  agreed  to  drop  the  prosecution  if  Judd 
would  leave  the  state  never  to  return.  This  he  readily  agreed 
to,  and  he  seems  to  have  faithfully  kept  his  word. 

Judd  originally  came  from  Illinois,  where  his  family  was 
well  known  a?nd  respected.  He  was  a  large,  good  looking  man, 
a  fluent  and  persuasive  talker,  and  a  man  whose  opinions 
changed  as  rapidly  as  a  kaleidoscope.  Early  in  the  campaign 
he  published  a  card  claiming  to  be  the  first  man  in  the  United 
States  to  suggest  the  name  of  Grover  Cleveland  for  president. 
Subsequently  he  made  several  speeches  for  Blaine,  presumably 
for  a  cash  consideration.  After  he  found  that  Cleveland  had 
been  successful,  he  at  once  became  a  good  democrat  once  more, 
and  at  once  set  out  to  secure  endorsements  for  the  position  which 
he  was  afterward  lucky  enough  to  secure.  As  a  matter  of 
course,  he  gave  Denver  a  wide  berth,  but  he  was  fortunate 
enough  to  secure  the  influence  of  several  prominent  democrats 
in  other  parts  of  the  state,  among  whom  were  Dr.  J.  J.  Crooke 
and  Hon.  George  Goldthwaite,  of  Leadville,  who  had  both  writ- 
ten letters  to  the  interior  department  endorsing  Judd  in  the 
strongest  terms,  besides  this,  the  Hon.  Harley  B.  Morse,  of 
Central  City,  had  gone  to  the  department  in  person  to"  recom- 
mend the  rascal,  whose  suave  manners  and  glib  tongue  had  de- 
ceived him  thoroughly.  After  Judd's  exposure  and  consequent 
downfall,  he  decided  that  the  West  was  too  swift  for  him,  and 
he  was  last  heard  from  in  Iowa,  where  he  was  supposed  to 
belong  to  a  gang  of  counterfeiters. 

At  all  events,  Colorado  was  well  rid  of  a  scoundrel  who 
would  have  brought  disgrace  upon  her  fair  name,  had  it  not 
been  for  Gen.  Cook's  wide  acquaintance  and  perfect  recollection 
of  men  and  events,  and  his  untiring  efforts  to  bring  criminals 
of  whatever  age  or  station  to  justice. 


A  BOGUS  DETECTIVE'S  FATE. 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

L.  P.  GRISWOLD  AND  HIS  DENVER  EXPERIENCE— HOW  HE  TOOK  A 
"CASE"  WHICH  HE  WORKED  UP  SO  WELL  AS  TO  PRODUCE  THE 
DEATH  OF  THREE  MEN— HE  MURDERS  AN  INNOCENT  MAN,  PRE- 
TENDING THAT  HE  WAS  LYNCHED,  AND  STARTS  TO  FLEE  THE 
COUNTRY— GEN.  COOK  LOOKS  INTO  THE  CASE,  SEES  THROUGH 
THE  STORY,  AND  HAS  MR.  GRISWOLD  ARRESTED,  DEVELOPING 
A   COLD-BLOODED   ASSASSINATION. 

There  are  snide  detectives  just  as  there  are  shyster  lawyers, 
quack  doctors  and  dead-beat  newspaper  men.  We  have  our  share 
of  the  pretenders  and  dead  beats,  and  thej  do  us  more  harm  than 
good.  The  worst  case  which  has  ever  disgraced  our  annals  here 
in  Denver  was  that  of  one  L.  P.  Oris  wold — a  hard  nut,  too,  he 
was.  His  machinations  here  resulted  in  his  own  tragic  death,  and 
in  that  of  one  other  man,  certainly,  if  not  of  a  third ;  also  develop- 
ing  several  plots  of  intricate  and  diabolical  design,  and  bringing 
many  people  into  the  affair  before  it  was  ended. 

The  series  of  occurrences  with  which  Griswold  was  connected 
had  their  beginning  in  the  summer  of  1870,  and  did  not  terminate 
until  in  the  winter  of  1872,  covering  a  period  of  eighteen  months, 
owing  to  the  delay  of  the  law.  Griswold  had  been  a  great  deal 
about  Cheyenne.  Cheyenne  was  a  bad  place  in  those  days.  It 
was  enjoying  its  railroad  boom.  Times  were  lively,  and  murders, 
holdups  and  burglaries  were  frequent.  There  was  a  vigilance 
committee  which  did  some  good  work.  It  was  frequently  con- 
sidered necessary  by  this  committee  to  pronounce  sentence  of 
death  upon  offenders  in  the  community,  and  Griswold  was  for  a 
long  time  employed  to,  execute  the  decrees  of  the  court  of  Judge 
Lynch.  This  was  not  wrong,  but  the  committee  made  a  mistake 
in  the  employment  of  Griswold  as  the  executioner.  He  was  a  bad 
man — such  a  man  as  would  kill  a  fellow-being  for  a  few  dollars. 
Whenever  sentence  of  death  was  pronounced  upon  a  victim  he 


A  BOGUS  DETECTIVE'S  FATE.  219 

was  turned  over  to  Griswold,  who  would  secure  a  gang  and  hang 
and  rob  him. 

But  to  come  to  the  story.  Cheyenne  finally  quieted  down, 
and  Griswold  was  without  a  calling.  He  came  to  Denver  and  to 
Gen.  Cook,  of  the  Eocky  Mountain  Detective  Association,  one 
day,  wanting  employment,  professing  to  be  a  detective.  Cook  told 
him  he  could  do  nothing  for  him,  but  would  give  him  a  "pointer" 
on  a  case  which  he  could  have  if  he  desired,  not  knowing  his  real 
character  then. 

Some  weeks  before,  the  Myers  Fisher  ranch  on  Clear  creek 
had  been  burned — houses,  stables,  etc. — and  Fisher  had  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  the  fire  had  been  caused  by  an  incendiary, 
and  he  offered  a  reward  of  $400  for  the  capture  and  punishment 
of  the  perpetrator  of  the  crime.  Cook  looked  into  the  case,  and 
he  became  convinced  that  the  fire  had  been  caused  by  accident, 
and  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  it.  This  was  the  case  which 
he  gave  Griswold,  who  was  glad  enough  to  get  it.  In  the  hope  of 
receiving  the  reward  offered,  as  it  afterwards  developed,  Gris- 
wold then  began  to  lay  a  plot  which  was  simply  hellish  in  design. 

It  so  happened  that  Fisher,  the  owner  of  the  ranch,  had  had 
some  trouble  with  one  James  O'Neal,  a  man  who  lived  some 
twelve  miles  away,  near  Littleton,  and,  although*  O'Neal  was  a 
quiet  and  law-abiding  man,  Griswold  determined  to  fasten  the 
crime  of  incendiarism  upon  him.  He  also  discovered  that  there 
had  been  a  fire  on  another  ranch  near  that  of  Fisher's,  owned  by 
a  man  named  Patrick.  To  this  man  and  his  sons  he  went  with 
his  story.  Knowing  that  he  could  never  convict  O'Neal,  he  asked 
the  Patricks  if  it  could  be  proven — as  he  afterwards  stated  in 
his  confession — that  O'Neal  had  fired  both  places,  they  would  con- 
sent to  the  capture  and  lynching  of  him.  They  were  willing. 
He  brought  them  what  they  considered  sufficient  proof  of  O'Neal's 
guilt,  which  Griswold  had  procured  in  his  own  peculiar  way. 

Griswold  and  George  Patrick,  son  of  the  old  man,  then  came 
to  Denver  and  swore  out  a  warrant  before  James  S.  Taylor,  then 
a  justice  of  the  peace  in  Denver,  under  false  names,  for  O'Neal's 
arrest,  Griswold  getting  himself  appointed  a  special  officer.  He 
accomplished  this  by  stating  to  the  justice  that  he  had  seen  Cook, 
who  was  then  sheriff,  which  was  not  true,  and  that  Cook  had 


220  -^  BOGUS  DETECTIVE'S  FATE.  ; 

stated  that  he  was  unable  to  go  out  to  make  the  arrest.  The  con- 
stable he  declared  he  could  not  find.  He  further  represented  that 
it  was  essential  that  O'Neal  should  be  arrested  that  night,  and  at 
last  succeeded  in  making  it  appear  necessary  that  he  and  his 
friend  should  be  sent  upon  the  mission.  Their  statements  proved 
to  be  false  in  every  respect,  as  will  appear,  and  were  the  first 
clue  which  the  detectives  had  when  it  came  to  looking  up  the  case. 

Having  procured  their  warrant,  the  two  men  drove  out  to 
O'Neal's  ranch,  where  they  arrived  late  in  the  afternoon  of  the 
same  day.  They  introduced  themselves  to  the  unsuspecting  man 
as  officers  and  told  him  their  mission,  but  were,  withal,  so  pleas- 
ant as  not  to  create  any  suspicion  that  his  arrest  was  merely  a 
trap  to  secure  the  poor  fellow  for  execution.  He  never  dreamed 
what  character  of  man  he  had  to  deal  with  in  Griswold,  and  that 
hell-hound  had  coolly  made  up  his  mind  to  take  his  life,  although 
he  believed  him  not  guilty,  for  a  pitiful  sum  of  money. 

"All  right,  gentlemen,"  O'Neal  replied.  "I  will  go  with  you. 
I  am  willing  to  stand  my  trial,  especially  as  I  feel  confident  of  my 
own  innocence,  and  know  that  I  can  prove  it.  I  have  nothing  to 
fear.  But  it  is  late;  come  in  and  take  supper  with  me  before 
starting." 

This  invitation,  extended  in  all  courtesy  and  hospitality,  was 
accepted  by  the  two  men,  who,  although  they  may  have  been 
hungry,  were  more  anxious  to  gain  time  than  to  appease  their 
appetites. 

Supper  being  over,  dark  was  coming  on,  and  the  three  men 
prepared  for  their  ride,  the  terminus  of  which  it  was  supposed 
would  be  for  all  in  Denver.  Griswold  and  Patrick  had  ridden  out 
in  a  two-seated  buggy,  but  they  requested  O'Neal  to  take  a  seat 
between  them,  and  all  three  started  off  in  quite  a  jovial  mood. 
This  joviality  was  soon  increased,  for  the  vehicle  was  well  loaded 
down  with  whiskey  and  cigars,  and  the  three  men  were  soon 
laughing  and  joking  and  drinking  with  each  other  like  old-time 
friends. 

Thus  they  journeyed  on  to  the  crossing  of  the  Platte.  The 
chances  are  that  by  this  time  poor  O'Neal  was  well  filled  with 
whiskey  and  capable  of  making  hut  little  resistance  against  any 
attack  upon  him.    Be  that  as  it  may,  he  was  taken  from  the  buggy 


A  BOGUS  DETECTIVE'S  FATE.  221" 

at  Brown's  bridge,  and  when  he  was  next  seen  his  soul  had  de- 
serted its  flesh  tenement  and  talcen  up  its  abode  in  another  realm. 
When  found  the  next  day  the  body  was  dangling  from  a 
girder  of  the  bridge,  with  a  card  pinned  on  the  back  stating  that 
the  man  had  been  lynched  because  he  had  burned  Fisher's  and 
Patrick's  ranches  and  stolen  cattle,  and  that  he  had  made  full 
confession  of  the  fact.  In  conclusion,  cattle  thieves  and  evil- 
doers generally  were  warned  to  beware  of  their  ways,  and  no- 
tified that  the  vigilantes  were  ever  on  their  track. 

Gen.  Cook  was  among  the  first  to  view  the  body.  Griswold 
and  Patrick  were  the  murderers.  So  much  may  be  stated  here. 
They  early  sought  to  cover  up  their  crime  and,  like  many  more 
enlightened  criminals,  made  the  newspapers  useful  in  their  work. 
Coming  into  Denver  that  night,  they  went  to  the  offices  of  the 
public  journals  and  told  how  they  had  been  sent  out  as  special 
officers  to  arrest  O'lSTeal  on  the  charges  above  related,  giving  the 
same  false  names  which  they  had  given  Justice  Taylor,  and  stat- 
ing that  they  had  proceeded  as  far  as  Brown's  bridge  with  their 
prisoner  when  they  were  set  upon  by  a  band  of  disguised  men, 
who  compelled  them  to  deliver  over  the  prisoner  at  the  muzzles 
of  a  hundred  revolvers.  They  told  how  they  had  pleaded  in  vain 
for  the  life  of  the  prisoner,  and  how  that  indiA'idual,  after  quiver- 
ing and  quaking  and  making  a  faint  denial,  had  at  last  confessed 
the  crime.  Their  prisoner  being  taken,  they  had,  they  said,  been 
compelled  to  drive  on,  and  were  then  ignorant  of  his  fate,  though 
they  supposed  he  had  been  lynched. 

The  newspapers  which  told  this  story  the  next  morning  bore 
a  revelation  to  Gen.  Cook.  He  had  kept  no  track  of  Griswold 
and  the  O'Neal  case,  supposing  that  when  the  supposed  detective 
should  find  that  the  charges  were  unfounded  he  would  drop  it  and 
cease  his  efforts.  Furthermore,  he  was  sheriff  of  the  county,  and 
thought  he  would  have  known,  or  at  least  thought  he  ought  to 
have  known,  if  any  arrest  of  as  much  importance  as  that  of 
O'Neal  had  been  made.  But  he  was  totally  in  the  dark.  The 
names  of  the  officers  given  in  the  papers  were  not  even  recognized, 
Griswold  and  Patrick  having  used  their  false  names  in  the  story. 

Mr.  Cook  began  to  investigate.  His  work  was  soon  well 
under  way.    He  obtained  his  first  clue  from  Justice  Taylor,  who 


2'22  A  BOGUS  DETECTIVE'S  FATE. 

related  the  circumstances  of  the  two  men  swearing  out  warrants 
for  O'Neal's  arrest  and  stating  that  Cook  had  refused  to  go  and 
make  the  arrests.  From  the  justice's  description  of  the  two  "spec- 
ial deputies,"  Cook  inferred  that  the  two  men  were  Griswold  and 
Patrick. 

"A  clue  and  a  big  one,"  he  soon  afterwards  told  one  of  his 
men.  "Griswold  is  the  murderer  of  O'Neal.  He  gave  his  wrong 
name  to  the  justice,  and  he  lied  about  me.  Here  is  where  he 
began  to  cover  up  his  tracks.  Griswold  is  the  man  we  want.  This 
newspaper  story  is  all  bosh." 

But  the  case  had  still  to  be  worked  up.  So  far  he  had  no 
basis  for  his  operations  but  inference.  There  was  a  great  deal 
more  to  know  before  an  arrest  could  be  made.  And  he  must 
operate  rapidly  and  shrewdly,  otherwise  his  man  might  escape. 
He  determined  to  visit  Brown's  bridge  and  obtain  whatever  clue 
he  might  there. 

Gen.  Cook,  accompanied  by  one  of  his  officers,  rode  rapidly 
out  the  road  towards  Littleton,  feeling  quite  confident  that  he 
would  find  that  O'Neal  had  been  murdered,  and  hopeful  of  obtain- 
ing some  clue  as  to.  the  identity  of  the  murderers.  He  was  not 
disappointed,  and  every  step  taken  confirmed  his  suspicions  previ- 
ously formed,  that  Griswold  had  murdered  O'Neal,  and  that  the 
report  of  the  lynching  was  a  mere  pretense.  He  found  the  body 
swinging  as  it  had  been  left,  awaiting  the  action  of  the  coroner. 
Some  of  the  country  people  had  begun  to  gather  about  the  scene 
of  the  killing,  having  heard  of  the  finding  of  the  body.  They 
viewed  the  ghastly  sight  with  horror  and  with  manifestations  s» 
marked  as  to  destroy  all  idea  which  the  bogus  special  deputy  had 
sought  to  convey  that  the  enraged  populace  had  taken  the  mam 
from  them  and  hanged  him. 

A  few  were  found  by  the  officers  who  had  seen  the  two  men 
who  had  come  out  to  arrest  O'Neal,  and  their  descriptions  of  the 
men  were  so  accurate  as  to  clear  away  whatever  trace  of  doubt 
that  might  have  remained  with  the  detective  as  to  their  being 
Griswold  and  Patrick. 

But  still  a  stronger  circumstance  remained  to  aid  in  com- 
pleting the  theory  which  Cook  was  gradually  forming.  The  snide 
officers  had  told  the  newspapers  that  a  large  number  of  mea 


A  BOGUS  DETECTIVE'S  FATE.  223 

stopped  them  and  took  their  prisoner  from  them.  Cook  found 
the  place  at  which  the  buggy  had  stopped,  and  where  the  prisoner 
had  been  removed;  but  Instead  of  the  tracks  of  a  hundred  men, 
or  of  fifty,  or  twenty,  he  discovered  the  footprints  of  but  three  of 
them.  Of  these,  evidently  only  one  had  approached  the  buggy, 
while  three  had  left  it,  dragging  the  prisoner,  as  the  surface  of 
the  soil  afforded  every  evidence.  Hence  Mr.  Cook  decided  that 
the  two  men  in  the  buggy  with  O'Neal  had  strangled  him  there 
while,  perhaps,  he  was  under  the  influence  of  liquor,  and  that  they 
had  been  assisted  in  taking  him  out  and  stringing  him  up  by  a 
confederate  who  had  joined  them  at  Brown's  bridge. 

One  more  clue  only  is  necessary  to  make  a  complete  chain  of 
very  strong  circumstantial  evidence.  The  rope  with  which  O'Neal 
was  hanged- — where  did  that  come  from?  Bringing  it  to  Denver 
with  him.  Gen.  Cook  succeeded  in  ascertaining  where  it  had  been 
bought,  and  that  it  was  purchased  on  the  afternoon  before  the 
night  of  the  murder  by  Oris  wold. 

If  there  are  any  who  think  Dave  Cook  not  a  shrewd  detective, 
they  ought  to  be  convinced  of  their  error  after  reading  the  story  of 
the  working  up  of  this  case. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

ARREST  OF  GRISWOLD-HE  IS  TAKEN  JUST  AS  HE  IS  LEAVING  THE 
COUNTRY— PREPARED  TO  FIGHT,  BUT  CAUGHT  IN  A  TRAP— HIS 
NECK  SAVED  ON  THE  FIRST  TRIAL,  AND  WHILE  AWAITING  A 
SECOND  HE  ATTEMPTS  TO  ESCAPE  FROM  JAIL,  BUT  IS  SHOT 
DEAD  IN  A  GENERAL  MELEE— HIS  PLAN  OF  ESCAPE  DISCOVERED 
—A  CURIOUS  LETTER— ESCAPE  OF  PATRICK— SUICIDE  OF  HIS 
BROTHER-IN-LAW  SEVERAL  YEARS  AFTERWARDS. 

There  was  now  left  nothing  to  do  but  to  arrest  the  two  men 
who  had  betrayed  and  murdered  O'Neal,  and  for  this  denouement 
preparations  were  now  made.  While  working  up  the  O'Neal  case, 
Griswold  had  taken  a  fancy  to  a  woman  living  with  her  husband 
on  Clear  creek,  a  quiet  and  peaceable  man,  and  the  two  becoming 
attached  to  each  other,  he  had  driven  the  husband  awav  and 
remained  with  the  wife,  filling  the  role  of  husband  himself.  Gris- 
wold lived  with  this  woman  at  her  former  husband's  home,  and 
seemed  to  feel  no  delicacy  whatever  concerning  the  fine  points  of 
the  situation. 

Two  days  elapsed  before  Gen.  Cook  had  succeeded  in  obtain- 
ing the  clues  set  forth  in  the  preceding  chapter,  and  while  it  was 
feared  that  the  murderers  might  make  their  escape,  the  fact  was 
not  lost  sight  of  that  the  offense  charged  was  a  heinous  one,  and 
Cook  felt  that  a  great  injustice  might  be  done  in  arresting  the 
men  as  long  as  there  was  any  doubt  as  to  their  guilt.  Hence  the 
delay  in  taking  the  culprits  into  hand. 

Detectives  Frank  Smith  and  Charley  McCune  were  selected 
to  make  the  arrest  of  the  precious  pair,  and  were  ordered  to  Clear 
Creek  valley  for  that  purpose.  They  went  first  to  the  residence  of 
Patrick,  and  found  to  their  regret  that  they  had  come  too  late. 
That  worthy  had  folded  his  tent  and  stolen  away,  leaving  home 
and  friends  behind,  evidently  fearing  apprehension. 

The  officers  proceeded  with  caution  to  Griswold's  home,  fear- 
ing detection  from  a  distance,  and  in  case  of  detection  a  decidedly 
warm  welcome.     But  they  at  last  succeeded  in  getting  to  his 


A  BOGUS  DETECTIVE'S  FATE.  225 

house,  and  upon  making  inquiry  for  him,  found  that  he  had  just 
gone  out — out  where  no  one  knew. 

The  officers  began  now  to  feel  that  they  had  happened  in  a 
day  after  the  feast,  and  sadly  turned  their  horses'  heads  towards 
the  city,  disappointed  and  dejected  that  they  had  had  such  bad 
luck  as  they  felt  that  they  had  had.  But  there  was  nothing  left 
but  a  return  to  the  city,  with  their  report;  so  at  least  they  felt,  as 
they  quitted  the  house  where  Griswold  had  so  recently  been.  Yet 
there  was  still  reason  for  hope  of  at  least  partial  success,  and 
they  very  soon  came  to  realize  that  all  was  not  lost. 

Shortly  after  leaving  Griswold's  late  place  of  abode,  the  offi- 
cers discovered  a  mounted  man  moving  in  advance  of  them,  and 
across  a  field.  They  spurred  up,  and  were  not  long  in  discovering 
that  this  man  was  no  other  than  Griswold.  The  officers  had  come 
prepared  to  deceive  him.  They  were  dressed  as  cow-boys — wore 
large  sombrero  hats,  tucked  their  breeches  legs  into  their  boot- 
tops,  and  carried  whips  in  their  hands,  which  they  twirled  about 
and  cracked  as  cow-Tboys  do.  Taking  a  different  road  from  that 
which  Griswold  was  pursuing,  the  two  men  contrived  to  ride 
around  and  come  up  so  as  to  cut  him  off  without  creating  sus- 
pision.  They  had  no  hope  of  finding  him  unarmed,  and  hence 
were  desirous  of  avoiding  a  fight  if  possible.  Their  disguise  was 
so  excellent  that  it  served  to  save  them  from  this  necessity.  They 
rode  very  close  to  Griswold  before  he  took  any  notice  of  them, 
and  were  less  than  thirty  feet  distant  when  Griswold  recognized 
Smith's  face,  with  which  he  was  familiar. 

The  murderer  showed  his  colors  in  a  moment.  Appreciating 
that  the  two  ''cow-boys"  were  officers  come  to  arrest  him,  he  was 
prepared  to  defend  himself.  He  sought  his  gun  with  great  cel- 
erity, and  was  raising  it  to  fire,  when  he  found  himself  staring 
along  the  barrels  of  as  pretty  a  pair  of  weapons  as  were  ever  pre- 
sented. 

'Tut  that  gun  down,  Griswold,"  commanded  Frank  Smith. 
"Put  it  down,  or  you  die." 

The  gun  dropped. 

"Now,  hands  up!" 

Reluctantly  the  fellow's  hands  went  up. 

He  was  then  disarmed  and  was  soon  on  his  way  to  Denver. 


29(j  A  BOGUS  DETECTIVE'S  FATE. 

It  was  then  discovered  that  the  fellow  was  well  provided  with 
provisions  and  ammunition,  and  that  he  was  just  starting  to 
make  his  escape  from  the  state  when  come  upon  by  the  oflScers. 

Griswold  had  a  long  trial.  He  took  a  change  of  venue  from 
Denver  to  Evans,  Weld  county,  and  there,  after  the  case  was  thor- 
oughly tried,  he  was  remanded  to  jail  in  Denver  for  a  new  trial 
Eleven  of  the  jurymen  favored  hanging,  and  the  twelfth  was  for 
bringing  in  a  verdict  oi  hanslaughter  and  sending  him  to  the  peni- 
tentiary for  life.  No  one  doubted  the  man's  guilt.  The  splendid 
chain  of  evidence  which  Gen.  Cook  had  prepared  left  no  room  for 
doubt  on  that  score.  But  the  twelfth  man  was  not  a  believer  in 
hanging  and  held  out  to  the  last,  causing  the  jury  to  go  before  the 
court  with  a  disagreement  report.  The  murder  of  O'Neal  had 
been  committed  on  the  10th  of  July,  1870,  but,  owing  to  delays, 
the  month  of  February,  1872,  had  now  come  around,  and  the  law 
was  only  preparing  to  take  its  course.  Griswold,  who  had  been 
the  cause  of  so  much  summary  punishment,  looked  forward  to  his 
own  fate  with  the  greatest  dread,  and  began  to  make  prepara- 
tions to  escape.  His  plans  were  well  laid,  and  as  he  had  plenty 
of  outside  assistance,  it  is  a  great  wonder  that  he  did  not  accom- 
plish his  purpose.  He  was  certainly  desperate  enough,  as  will 
soon  appear. 

It  was  on  Saturday,  the  24th  of  February,  that  an  attempt  was 
made  to  escape  from  the  county  jail  in  Denver,  and  which  at- 
tempt resulted  in  one  of  the  most  exciting  scenes  ever  witnessed 
in  a  prison.  Two  prisoners,  Michael  Henesee  and  a  negro,  named 
Dan  Diamond,  were  engaged  scrubbing  the  premises  and  making 
a  general  clean-up.  While  in  the  companion  way  leading  be- 
tween the  cells  from  the  front  office  to  a  room  adjoining  the  day 
cell  in  the  rear,  they  had  occasion  to  wash  the  cells  of  Griswold 
and  E.  E.  Wight,  the  last  named  being  the  man  who  figures  in 
the  Wall  murder  story.  The  turnkey,  Sanf  ord  W.  Davis,  allowed 
these  men  to  emerge  from  their  cells  for  the  purpose  of  going  to 
the  water  closet,  a  few  feet  away,  and  in  the  enclosure,  there  be- 
ing no  accommodations  for  them  in  the  cells,  and  as  both  were 
heavily  ironed  no  fears  were  entertained  of  any  outbreak.  Gris- 
wold passed  to  the  front  office  and  called  out  to  L,  F.  or  "Till'^ 
Davis,  brother  to  the  turnkey,  for  a  chew  of  tobacco.    Davis  wa» 


A  BOGUS  DETECTIVE'S  FATE.  227 

in  the  bedroom  adjoining  and  did  not  answer,  Tshereupon  Gris- 
wold  turned  back,  and  as  he  did  so  he  suddenly  drew  a  bludgeon^ 
consisting  of  a  boulder  in  the  toe  of  a  stocking  prepared  in  the 
water  closet,  from  some  place  of  concealment  and  dealt  the  turn- 
key a  blow  on  the  back  of  the  head.  This  had  the  effect  to  fell 
him  to  the  floor,  but  he  soon  regained  his  feet,  and  after  a  scuffle 
with  Wight,  Griswold  and  Diamond,  the  negro,  who  had  joined 
the  mutineers,  he  ran  towards  the  large  room  in  the  rear,  closely 
followed  by  Griswold. 

During  this  melee,  Henesee,  the  other  prisoner,  acting 
promptly  and  looking  to  the  welfare  of  the  turnkey,  dragged 
Wight  awaj'  from  Davis  and  to  his  cell,  and  called  for  help. 
While  the  matter  stood  thus — Griswold  and  Davis,  the  turnkey,, 
in  the  back  room,  and  Griswold  in  possession  of  the  latter's  pis- 
tol, Henesee  holding  the  door  against  Wight  and  endeavoring  ta 
readjust  the  tumbler  lock — the  brother  of  the  turnkey  grasped  a 
revolver  and  courageously  entered  the  companion-way  and  tried 
to  lock  Wight's  cell  door,  in  the  meantime  holding  his  revolver  in 
his  right  hand.    This  all  transpired  in  a  few  seconds. 

Griswold,  finding  that  Wight's  exit  was  barred,  returned  to 
the  rear  doorway,  stepped  down  into  the  companion-way  and 
stood  facing  young  Davis,  who  was  endeavoring  to  lock  the  cell, 
only  a  few  feet  distant.  The  situation,  of  course,  demanded  des- 
perate action  on  the  part  of  one  or  the  other,  and  as  Griswold 
leveled  his  revolver  at  the  young  man,  the  latter  in  turn  drew 
bead  upon  the  prisoner,  and  both  fired  simultaneously.  The  ball 
from  Griswold's  pistol  probably  passed  through  the  front  door- 
way and  into  the  street;  the  ball  from  young  Davis'  revolver  en- 
tered Griswold's  body,  inflicting  a  mortal  wound.  He,  however, 
pressed  towards  Davis,  who  retreated  and  discharged  a  shot, 
when  Wight  emerged  from  his  cell,  seized  Griswold's  pistol, 
passed  to  the  rear  and  made  a  second  attack  upon  the  turnkey, 
who  endeavored  to  make  his  escape.  Wight,  however,  fired  too 
shots  at  Davis,  one  of  which  grazed  the  back  of  his  head.  The 
desperado  then  passed  out  at  the  rear,  and  secreted  himself  in 
the  jail  barn  under  the  hay. 

Of  course,  all  the  foregoing  had  happened  in  less  time  than  it 
takes  to  read  the  account  of  it.    The  sheriff's  office  at  that  time 


^28  ^  BOGUS  DETECTIVE'S  FATE. 

was  where  it  now  is  on  Fifteenth  street,  on  the  alley  between 
Larimer  and  Lawrence,  and  the  jail  was  on  Larimer  between 
Fourteenth  and  Fifteenth,  running  back  to  the  alley,  so  that  they 
were  not  far  apart.  Gen.  Cook  was  sitting  in  the  sheriff's  office 
at  the  time  of  the  shooting,  and,  hearing  it,  hurried  over  through 
the  alley  to  the  prison,  and  stationing  a  man  at  the  back  door, 
told  him  to  let  no  one  in  or  out.  The  crowd  was  already  gather- 
ing, and  Cook  was  afraid  of  a  general  row.  Running  in  he  found 
Till  Davis,  one  of  the  guards,  with  a  smoking  pistol  in  his  hand. 
"What's  up?"  he  demanded. 

"Oh,  the  devil's  to  paj',"  he  replied.  "We've  had  some  seri- 
ous work  here." 

"Where's  Sanford?" — Sanford  Davis  was  a  brother  of  Till's. 
^'Where  is  Sanford?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  he's  dead,"  replied  Till;  "shot  by  Griswold." 

"Where's  Griswold?" 

"He's  back  there  somewhere — I  don't  know  where." 

Cook  went  to  work  to  investigate,  and  found  a  confused  state 
of  affairs,  which  has  been  described  as  well  as  can  be  in  the  fore- 
going. The  officers  of  the  jail  had  not  yet  had  an  opportunity  to 
■ascertain  the  true  state  of  affairs.  In  fact,  the  smoke  of  the  late 
affray  had  not  yet  cleared  away.  It  was  generally  believed  that 
Sanford  Davis  had  been  shot,  and  no  one  knew  that  Griswold  had 
received  the  liberal  dose  of  lead  for  which  his  malady  called  so 
loudly.  Confusion  reigned  supreme,  and  everybody  was  excited. 
The  jail  was  a  pandemonium.  Nothing  was  known.  There  was 
<;haos  everywhere.    A  half  dozen  men  might  have  been  killed. 

Gen.  Cook  lost  no  time  in  beginning  to  straighten  matters 
out.  Finding  that  Wight  had  taken  part  in  the  melee,  Cook  hur- 
ried to  his  cell,  but  found  Griswold  in  it  instead  of  Wight.  Cook 
■demanded  his  pistol.    He  said  he  had  given  it  to  Wight. 

"I  am  dying,  don't  you  see?"  he  muttered,  "and  couldn't  use 
it  if  I  had  it.  So  I  opened  the  cell  and  came  in  and  let  Wight 
out  and  told  him  to  make  his  escape  if  he  wanted  to  get  away,  as 
I  couldn't." 

"Shot!  Of  course  you  are!  Come  out  of  here!"  exclaimed 
Dave,  who  never  dreamed  that  the  old  scoundrel  had  been  hurt  in 
the  row  which  he  had  instigated,  and  did  not  dare  hope  that  he 


A  BOGUS  DETECTIVES  FATE.  QSO" 

had  been  mortally  wounded.  ^V^ith  this  exclamation  he  dragged 
the  fellow  out  by  the  coat  collar,  large  as  he  was,  and  laid  him 
out  in  the  office,  when  he  discovered  that  the  man  was  really  not 
feigning.  He  then  found  that  Till  Davis  had  planted  a  ball  in  the 
old  fellow's  breast,  and  left  him  to  make  his  peace  with  his 
Maker;  and  went  to  look  for  Wight. 

Cook  tracked  Wight  to  the  stable  and  began  looking  for  him 
with  a  pitchfork  in  the  straw.  He  had  sent  the  steel  prongs  of 
the  implement  piercing  through  the  hay  but  once  or  twice,  when 
out  he  crawled,  leaving  the  pistol  cocked  lying  on  the  floor. 
When  Cook  took  Wight  back  to  jail,  old  Griswold  was  dead.  He 
had  been  shot  through  and  through. 

Everybody  considered  that  he  deserved  his  fate,  and  there 
were  few  mourners  to  follow  his  body  to  the  old  cemetery  on  the 
hill  the  next  day.  There  may  have  been  one  or  two.  It  was  after- 
wards discovered  that  the  jail  delivery  had  been  planned  with  the 
assistance  of  two  citizens  of  the  town,  who  had  horses  in  waiting 
for  the  murderers.    One  of  them  has  since  died. 

The  woman  with  whom  Griswold  had  lived  was  another 
mourner.  She  seemed  to  be  sincerelv  attached  to  the  man,  whom 
she  now  called  her  poor,  dear  husband.  It  was  discovered  after 
Griswold's  death  that  during  his  imprisonment  this  woman  had 
done  everything  in  her  power  to  assist  him  in  his  escape,  and  had 
been  his  confidant  and  adviser  throughout. 

After  Wight,  one  of  the  prisoners  who  attempted  to  escape 
from  the  jail,  had  been  rearrested,  it  occurred  to  the  officers  to 
search  his  person  in  order  to  ascertain,  if  possible,  the  origin  of 
the  difficulty  which  had  resulted  in  the  death  of  one  of  the  par- 
ties thereto.  In  one  of  his  pockets  was  found  a  package  of  let- 
ters, which  scrutiny  disclosed  to  have  been  written  by  Griswold. 
These  letters  were  perfectly  unintelligible  to  the  ordinary  reader^ 
being  traced  in  cipher,  probably  invented  by  Griswold  himself. 
To  pick  them  out  was,  however,  a  comparatively  easy  matter  ta 
the  detectives,  as  they  had  already  discovered  the  key  to  the 
cipher.  One  of  the  letters,  developing  the  plot  for  escape,  ran  as 
follows: 

''Dear  Jennie — The  horses  must  not  be  more  than  two  blocks 
awav;  we  will  come  out  of  the  front  door,  and  von  or  Alex 


230  ^  BOGUS  DETECTIVE'S  FATE. 

ought  to  be  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  so  that  when  we 
went  out  you  could  walk  by  where  the  horses  were,  and  then 
there  could  be  no  mistake.  We  only  want  the  horses  now  to  go 
to  the  mountains.  T  want  Alex  to  come  and  get  them.  Then  you 
or  him  see  Henry  and  have  other  ones  got.  I  do  not  know 
whether  we  will  have  Spencers  or  Winchesters;  we  will  have  one 
or  the  other,  but  we  may  not  get  cartridges.  Have  Alex  get  5 
hundred  rounds  of  each,  so  we  can  take  which  ever  we  want; 
also  twenty-five  rounds  of  36,  and  the  same  of  44.  Those 
we  don't  want  he  can  take  back.  Have  plenty  of  cakes  (provis- 
ions). Take  two  sacks,  a  part  full  of  eatables;  they  must  be  more 
than  half  full,  so  that  Ave  can  lay  them  across  the  saddles,  one 
«ack  on  each  horse.  The  principal  things  are  bread;  hard  tack 
if  you  can  get  it;  no  more  than  seven  or  eight  pounds  of  bacon; 
lots  of  salt  and  pepper,  and  lots  of  coffee,  ground.  Mind  you,  lots 
of  that  is  all  that  has  kept  me  alive.  You  had  better  have  a 
■quart  of  whiskey  on  each  saddle,  for  we  are  nothing  but  skin  and 
bones,  and  very  weak.  We  can  not  ride  far  without  stimulants. 
We  will  stay  near  Denver  until  we  get  strength;  we  are  getting 
worse  here  every  day,  and  I  assure  you  I  will  not  leave  here  until 
I  square  accounts  with  Smith. 

''But  we  must  have  plenty  of  ammunition,  for  it  makes  no 
•difference  whether  we  fight  in  the  streets  or  anvwhere  else.  I 
will  never  be  taken,  and  if  I  should  have  the  good  fortune  to  get 
killed,  you  will  find  the  address  of  those  you  want,  with  full  di- 
rections. It  will  be  in  the  waist  bands  of  my  pants  that  I  have 
on.  If  I  am  not  killed  I  will  write  and  have  some  money  sent  to 
you.  The  'old  man'  can  go  for  wood  and  bring  provisions.  1 
don't  expect  you  to  buy  anything,  but  tell  Alex  to  get  them.  Bet- 
ter get  some  chewing  tobacco.  I  want  one  bottle  of  morphine, 
for  riding  will  hurt  me.  I  wear  napkins.  I  can  almost  span  my 
arm  above  my  elbow.  I  am  the  poorest  I  ever  was  but  I  must 
or  die.  I  have  some  time  thought  you  was  afraid  of  me  if  I 
should  get  away.  I  have  never  showed  myself  a  brute  3'et.  I 
don't  think  I  will  begin  now.  I  will  send  for  you  as  soon  as  I  can. 
I  will  send  you  money  very  soon,  if  I  go  to  h — 11  for  it.  Remem- 
ber that  I  think  everj'thing  will  be  furnished,  if  I  once  get  out. 
They  are  all  scared  about  it.    We  will  go  some  time  between  12 


A  BOGUS  DETECTIVE'S  FATE.  231 

and  3 — I  think  about  2  o'clock.  Let  Alex  be  on  the  opposite  side 
and  walk  near  the  horses,  but  not  come  near  us;  he  must  follow 
so  to  get  the  horses.  If  you  are  bothered  or  insulted,  we  know  . 
I  will  make  their  blood  run  a  rain  of  terror  or  burn  their  city 
until  they  stop.  I  tell  you,  if  they  cross  me  I  will  have  their 
hearts,  but  to  you  I  will  be  as  I  always  have  been,  your  husband; 
will  stake  my  life  for  you  in  an}-  way  it  may  be  necessary.  If  I 
am  killed,  remember  mv  waist  band.  Be  careful  of  the  kev  I 
gave  you.    I  will  risk  my  life  for  it.    They  can't  read.    Good-by. 

"L.  P.  G." 

This  letter  was  not  fully  deciphered  until  the  body  had  been 
buried.  It  was  afterwards  disinterred  by  W.  F.  t-?mith.  the 
county  jailer,  in  order  to  ascertain  whether  it  had  been  buried 
with  any  valuable  papers,  as  the  above  would  indicate.  He 
searched  the  clothing  thoroughly,  but  found  only  two  scraps  of 
paper — one  two  leaves  from  Harper's  magazine  containing  the 
poem  "Hannah  Jane,"  and  the  other  a  piece  of  paper  with  a 
few  words  in  cipher.  On  the  former  was  the  following  significant 
problem — significant  in  the  light  of  recent  events.  Griswold 
was  probably  trying  to  study  it  out.  It  was  as  follows:  "A 
problem:  A  prisoner  anxious  to  escape,  and  a  dead  man  await- 
ing burial;  how  were  these  two  things  to  be  exchanged  so  that 
the  living  man  might  pass  out  without  going  to  the  grave?" 

So  ended,  with  his  own  life,  the  bloody  work  which  ''Old 
Griswold"  had  begun.  His  wife,  or  "woman,"  is  still  living  in 
or  near  Denver.  Wight,  his  accomplice,  was  the  man  who  had 
assisted  Witherill  in  the  murder  of  Wall,  the  herder  on  Dry 
creek,  an  account  of  which  crime  is  elsewhere  in  this  volume  re- 
lated. 

Dan  Diamond,  the  negro,  was  one  of  the  worst  "coons''  that 
ever  came  to  Denver.  He.  as  well  as  Wight,  is  probably  also 
at  Canon.  He  never  stays  out  more  than  a  few  months,  as  he 
is  always  stealing  when  out.  But  he  escaped  on  the  day  of  the 
fracas.  The  officers  heard  of  him  a  few  days  afterwards  at  a 
ranch  twenty  four  miles  down  the  Platte,  and  followed  him  down 
there.     Thev  were  told  that  he  was  in  the  second  storv  of  /a 

* 

house  there.     Cook  went  with  a  posse  after  him  and  stationed 
men  outside  with  guns  pointing  at  every  window,  and  went  up 


232  ^  BOGUS  DETECTIVE'S  FATE. 

to  where  he  was  himself,  with  drawn  revolver.  They  expected 
hira  to  jump  out  and  be  killed.  But  he  didn't.  He  was  a  down- 
right disappointment.  Cook  found  him  lying  flat  on  his  face 
on  a  bed,  crying:  *'0h,  Missah  Ofifisah,  I  dun  gib  up;  don  kill 
me  now;  Tse  yer  man.  I  go  right  along  wid  you."  xVnd  he 
did  go. 

As  for  Hennessee,  the  gambler,  who  came  to  Davis'  rescue, 
he  was  pardoned  out  immediately  and  voted  a  resolution  of 
thanks. 

Till  Davis  was  but  slightly  hurt,  after  all.  He  thought  he 
had  been  shot,  but  wasn't.  The  wound  caused  by  the  stone 
stunned  him  and  the  blood  flowed  freely  for  a  while,  but  he  soon 
recovered  and  is  supposed  to  be  still  living. 

Patrick,  the  man  who  went  with  Griswold  to  arrest  O'Neal, 
and  who  was  supposed  to  have  been  equally  responsible  for  his 
death,  has  never,  since  the  day  after  the  murder,  been  seen  in 
Colorado.  It  was  believed  that  he  went  to  Kansas,  but  no  sat- 
isfactory clue  being  obtained,  he  was  not  searched  for  in  that 
state. 

With  one  other  name  and  one  other  fatality  this 'record 
closes.  John  Tusawn  was  a  brother-in-law  of  Patrick.  He  lived 
near  Brown's  bridge  previous  to  and  after  O'Neal's  death.  Com- 
mon report  made  him  a  part}'  to  the  murder  of  the  victim;  but, 
although  circumstances  pointed  to  his  guilt,  evidence  sufficient 
to  convict  him  was  never  found,  and  he  was  not  molested.  It 
is,  however,  known  that  ever  after  the  ghastly  tragedy  he  lived 
a  moody,  gloomy  life.  When  the  grasshoppers  came  along  in 
1875,  he  lost  his  crops,  and  that  fall  he  ended  a  now  thoroughly 
miserable  existence  by  committing  suicide.  It  was  given  out 
that  the  ravages  of  the  locusts  had  produced  his  despondency, 
and  had  indirectly  caused  him  to  take  his  own  life,  but  those 
who  knew  him  best  say  that  he  took  this  step  to  avoid  the 
further  sight  of  the  horrible  spectacle  of  O'Neal's  dead  body 
dangling  constantly  before  his  eyes. 

Old  Griswold  was  a  curse  to  all  who  came  in  contact  with 
him.  He  did  not  die  any  too  soon,  and  the  world  would  have 
probably  been  better  had  he  never  been  born. 


THE  LEICHSENRmG  IIOBBEKY. 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

FIVE  THOUSAND  DOLLARS  STOLEN  FROM  A  SALOON  SAFE  ALMOST 
UNDER  THE  OWNER'S  EYES— THE  THIEF  ESCAPES  AND  IS  WELL 
GONE  WHEN  GEN.  COOK  GETS  ON  THE  TRACK— A  REWARD  OF 
A  THOUSAND  DOLLARS— VISIT  TO  A  PAWNBROKER'S  SHOP— THE 
DETECTIVES  GET  A  CLUE— CHASE  OF  RECKLESS  ROCKY  M'DON- 
ALD,  WHO  PROVES  TO  BE  THE  GUILTY  PARTY— THE  THIEF 
LOCKED  UP  AND  THE  MONEY  TURNED  OVER  IN  TWO  HOURS' 
TIME— THE  ROCKY  MOUNTAIN  ASSOCIATION  PITTED  AGAINST 
THE  POLICE  AND  THE  SHERIFF'S   FORCE. 

One  of  the  boldest  robberies  on  record  was  committed  one 
cold  evening  during  the  Christmas  holidays  of  1879,  at  the 
saloon  of  C.  E.  Leichsenring,  then  on  the  corner  of  Sixteenth  and 
Holladay  streets,  Denvei-,  supplemented  by  one  of  the  most 
adroit  captures  ever  effected  in  the  city.  The  particulars  in  the 
case  are  about  as  follows:  It  was  near  8  o'clock  when  Mr.  • 
Leichsenring  was  induced  to  open  his  safe,  in  the  rear  of  the 
saloon,  by  a  man  named  Aver,  who  represented  himself  to  be 
a  United  States  marshal  from  Leadville,  and  expressed  a  desire 
to  examine  the  complicated  workings  of  the  time  lock  on  the 
inner  door  of  the  safe,  which  was  one  of  the  small  Hall  patterns, 
and  an  object  of  great  interest  as  a  mechanical  contrivance. 

While  Mr.  Leichsenring  was  explaining  the  process  of  lock- 
ing and  opening  the  door  of  the  same  to  Ayer,  his  attention 
was  for  a  moment  attracted  to  another  part  of  the  house,  and 
it  is  supposed  that  the  robbery  was  committed  during  the  brief 
period  that  his  back  was  turned.  The  theory  is  that  during  this 
interim,  an  accomplice  of  Ayer,  named  Rocky  McDonald,  took 
out  of  the  safe  a  canvas  bag  containing  |4,800  in  |20  and  |10  gold 
pieces  and  some  government  bonds,  altogether  amounting  to 
$5,000,  and  walked  out  of  the  saloon  before  the  absence  of  the 
bag  was  noticed. 


234  THE  LEICHSENRING  ROBBERY. 

When  Ml'.  Leichsenring  turned  around  lie  immediately  de- 
tected that  the  safe  had  been  robbed,  and  thinking  that  Aver 
was  the  guilty  party,  immediately  seized  him  and  turned  him 
over  to  Officer  Newman,  who  at  that  juncture  happened  to  enter 
the  saloon.  The  report  of  the  robbeiy  spread  like  wildfire,  and 
the  amount  stolen  was  quickly  exaggerated  to  fS.OOO  in  gold. 
McDonald's  presence  had  been  noticed  by  three  or  four  other 
men,  who  were  seated  in  the  saloon  at  the  time,  but  no  one  had 
seen  him  take  the  money. 

Mr.  Leichsenring  notified  the  sheriff's  office  and  the  police 
as  speedily  as  possible,  and  officers  flocked  to  the  scene  of  the 
robbery  by  the  dozen.  Gen.  Cook  was  at  that  time  neither 
sheriff  nor  chief  of  police,  but  his  detective  association  was  as 
active  as  ever  and  ''just  aching"'  for  a  neat  job  in  which  it  might 
distinguish  itself.  Consequently  Gen.  Cook  proceeded  to  Leich- 
senring's  saloon,  and,  after  elbowing  his  way  through  the  crowd 
of  policemen  and  deputy  sheriffs  who  lined  the  sidewalk  on  the 
outside,  found  Mr.  Leichsenring  very  much  excited.  He  welcomed 
Cook  with  open  arms  and  asked  him  to  go  to  work  in  the  case. 
He  offered  first  a  reward  of  §500  and  then  of  $1,000  for  the  re- 
covery of  the  money,  and  proclaimed  in  loud  tones,  as  Dave  went 
out: 

"Til  give  |1,000  for  the  capture  of  the  thief  and  the  money^ 
and  if  Dave  Cook  finds  him,  I  authorize  him  to  take  his  pay 
out  of  the  bag." 

The  officers  scattering  in  all  directions,  policemen,  deputy 
sheriffs  and  private  detectives,  started  out  to  scour  the  town. 
There  was  incentive  to  work  for  now.  A  big  reward  was  of- 
fered. Mr.  Cook  walked  quietly  back  to  his  office  and  put  sev- 
eral of  his  best  officers  to  work,  including  Joe  Arnold  and  Capt. 
C.  A.  Hawley.    He  then  started  out  himself. 

He  had  been  on  the  street  less  than  an  hour  when  he  was 
approached  by  a  business  man  and  furnished  with  a  clue  which 
very  soon  led  to  the  arrest  of  the  guilty  party.  This  man  told 
the  detective  a  story  which  interested  him  very  much.  It  was 
to  the  effect  that  a  man  answering  the  description  of  McDonald 
had  applied  to  Lou  Rothgerber,  the  pawnbroker,  doing  business 
then,  as  now,  on  Larimer  street,  between  Sixteenth  and  Seven- 


THE  LEICHSENRING  ROBBERY.  235 

teenth,  for  a  peculiar  kind  of  expensive  watch,  used  only  by 
horsemen  in  timing  races,  and  not  having  anything  in  his  show 
cases  meeting  the  demands  of  his  customer,  Rothgerber  procured 
one  at  the  jewelry  store  of  Messrs.  Hatch,  Davidson  &  Co., 
which  he  sold  to  McDonald,  together  with  a  heavy  chain,  for 
$530,  receiving  his  payment  in  gold. 

Proceeding  to  Rothgerber's  shop  Mr.  Cook  found  a  police- 
man standing  near  the  entrance,  who  being  questioned  stated 
that  he  had  seen  McDonald  enter. 

''Did  he  have  any  money?" 

"Yes,  a  pile  of  it." 

"Where  did  he  get  it?" 

"He  told  me  that  he  had  just  sold  a  mine  for  $10,000." 

"Which  way  did  he  go?" 

"I  don't  know." 

The  policeman  had  heard  of  the  Leichsenring  robbery,  but 
he  did  not  suppose  that  a  man  who  had  been  shrewd  to  get 
away  v/ith  $5,000,  as  the  Leichsenring  robber  had  been,  would 
be  fool  enough  to  carry  it  around  so  loosely  as  McDonald  had 
been  doing,  hence  did  not  connect  him  with  the  theft.  Cook  knew 
more  than  the  policeman  did,  and  now  felt  sure  that  he  was  on 
the  right  track,  and  that  he  would  get  his  man.  Proceeding  into 
Rothgerber's  place  he  succeeded  in  ascertaining  that  his  man 
had  been  there,  though,  for  some  reason,  his  actions  did  not 
arouse  any  suspicion.  He  had  not  only  been  in  and  bought  a 
costly  watch,  but  had  left  all  his  money  with  the  exception  of 
a  few  hundred  dollars  with  Rothgerber  for  safe  keeping.  Here 
was  a  big  point  gained  already.  The  money  was  virtually  re- 
covered, leaving  nothing  to  do  but  to  secure  the  thief.  Taking 
Rothgerber  into  custody  that  the  money  might  be  held  secure, 
the  detective  went  on  his  way.  It  was  not  difficult  to  trace  Mc- 
Donald. He  had  spent  his  money  freely,  giving  it  away  wher- 
ever fancy  dictated,  and  tossing  a  $20  gold  piece  to  the  police- 
man at  Rothgerber's  door. 

Leaving  Rothgerber's,  McDonald  had  taken  a  hack  a  short 
time  previous  and  driven  up  Holladay  street.  Gen.  Cook  then 
prosecuted  his  search,  and  among  some  of  the  houses  of  ill- 
repute  abounding  in  that  portion  of  the  city,  and  finding  that  at 


236  THE  LEICHSENRING  ROBBERY. 

one  of  these  places  McDonald  had  spent  |10  for  two  bottles  of 
wine,  was  soon  in  a  condition  to  direct  Ofificers  Dorsey  and 
Phillips  to  arrest  not  only  McDonald,  but  another  man  whom 
he  suspected  of  complicity,  named  Davis,  telling  the  oflQcers 
that  he  wanted  the  two  men  for  larceny,  but  saying  nothing 
about  the  suspected  connection  of  them  with  the  Leichsenring 
case.  The  two  men  were  picked  up  with  but  little  difficulty  and 
turned  over  to  Gen.  Cook,  who,  after  returning  Mr.  Leichsenring's 
money  to  him,  made  public  the  fact  of  the  arrest  and  the  secur- 
ing of  the  treasure.  As  may  be  readily  supposed  there  was  con- 
siderable rejoicing  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Leichsenring,  and  the  pub- 
lic was  not  slow  to  recognize  the  service  which  had  been  ren- 
dered. Commenting  upon  the  case  the  next  morning,  the  Rocky 
Mountain  Neics  said:  "The  rapidity  with  which  the  capture  fol- 
lowed the  act — no  matter  how  it  may  have  been  accomplished — 
speaks  volumes  for  the  sagacity  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  Detec- 
tive Association,  and  they  are  honorably  entitled  to  a  liberal 
reward." 

Ayer,  it  should  here  be  stated,  was  also  arrested.  The  pris- 
oners were  taken  to  the  detectives'  headquarters,  searched,  the 
watch  and  six  $20  gold  pieces  found  on  McDonald's  person  and 
two  more  in  the  possession  of  his  partner,  Rothgerlber,  who 
had  been  detained,  was  released  upon  producing  the  total  amount 
deposited  by  McDonald  and  proving  that  he  had  no  knowledge 
of  the  robbery  at  the  time  he  sold  the  watch.  McDonald,  to- 
gether with  Ayer  and  Davis,  were  locked  up  to  await  examina- 
tion. 

All  these  men  remained  in  jail  for  several  weeks.  The  trial 
resulted  in  the  discharge  of  Davis  and  Ayer,  whose  complicity 
could  not  be  fully  established,  but  McDonald  was  sent  to  Cafion 
City  to  remain  until  1887. 

The  entire  case  was  concluded,  the  prisoners  jailed  and  the 
money  returned  to  its  owners  in  two  hours  after  it  was  placed 
in  Cook's  hands.  With  the  exception  of  a  few  assistants  of  his 
own  association  he  had  no  aid,  while  there  was  a  small  army  of 
police  and  sheriffs  on  the  lookout.    Comment  is  unnecessary. 


A  DEAL  WITH  THE  BLACK  HILLS  ROAD  AGENTS. 

CHAPTEK  XXXI. 

THE  LIVELY  TIMES  OF  '76— HOW  THE  ROAD  AGENTS  BETWEEN  CHEY- 
ENNE AND  DEADWOOD  FLOURISHED— AN  ATTEMPT  TO  DITCH 
THE  UNION  PACIFIC  TRAIN  AT  MEDICINE  BOW  BRIDGE,  WHEREBY 
A  HUNDRED  LIVES  WOULD  HAVE  BEEN  LOST— FRANK  JAMES  AT. 
THE  HEAD  OF  THE  "AGENTS"— THEIR  ESCAPE  INTO  THE  ELK 
MOUNTAINS,  WHERE  DEPUTY  SHERIFFS  WIDOWFIELD  AND  VIN- 
CENT ARE   MURDERED   IN  COLD   BLOOD. 

The  years  1876,  '77,  '78  and  '79  were  characterized  by  numer- 
ous stage-coach  robberies  in  Wyoming,  Dakota  and  Montana,  per- 
formed by  highwaymen,  who  found  refuge  in  the  wild  and 
mountainous  region  of  the  north.  The  roads  leading  to  the  Black 
hills  were  the  scenes  of  some  of  the  boldest  exploits  of  the  kind 
ever  known  to  criminal  history.  Many  thrilling  stories  of  the 
dare-devil  work  of  these  highwaymen  are  told,  and  will  long  be 
remembered  as  a  part  of  the  history  of  the  settlement  and  devel- 
opment of  the  region  round  about  Deadwood,  Large  treasures  of 
gold  dust  taken  from  the  mines  were  frequently  shipped  out  on 
the  stages,  and  many  men  of  wealth  traveled  over  the  line,  going 
in  for  the  purpose  of  starting  in  business  or  making  mining  in-, 
vestments.  The  stages  were  stopped  by  these  knights  of  the 
road,  who  soon  became  known  as  "road  agents,"  at  places  con- 
venient to  the  hiding  places  of  the  highwaymen,  who,  safe  be- 
hind protecting  trees  or  bluffs,  commanded  a  halt  and  compelled 
driver  and  passengers  to  hold  up  their  hands  while  they  should 
"go  through"  the  coach  and  the  people  on  board,  one  or  two  of 
the  agents  performing  the  search  while  others  held  their  cocked 
guns  loaded  upon  the  terrified  travelers,  who  were,  as  a  rule, 
only  too  willing  to  escape  with  their  lives  and  let  their  valuables 
go  to  enrich  the  stores  of  the  brigands.  Often,  however,  the 
travelers  "showed  fight."  and  then  there  was  sure  to  be  bloodshed, 


238        ^  DEAL  WITH  THE  BLACK  HILLS  ROAD  AGENTS. 

the  highwaymen  sometimes  getting  the  worst  of  it,  but  most  fre- 
quently coming  out  oest. 

When  the  travel  to  the  hills  began  to  slacken  and  the  coaches 
to  be  better  guarded  than  they  had  been  in  the  earlier  days  of 
the  gold  excitement,  the  "agents,"  not  finding  their  field  as  profit- 
able as  it  had  been  before,  started  out  to  look  for  new  fields  in 
which  to  show  their  prowess,  and  fresh  fields  to  conquer.  They 
turned  their  attention  to  the  railroads. 

And  thus  it  came  about  that  a  member  of  the  Kocky  Mount- 
ain Detective  Association  came  to  have  much  to  do  with  them,  in 
the  story  which  is  about  to  be  related  as  well  as  in  others  of  a 
like  character.  This  member  of  the  association  is  Mr.  N.  K.  Bos- 
well,  a  resident  of  Laramie  City,  Wyo.,  for  several  years  back, 
who  is  now  warden  of  the  state  penitentiary  at  Laramie  City, 
and  has  frequently  been  sheriff  of  Albany  county,  and  who  has 
for  very  many  years  been  considered  one  of  the  most  efficient  of 
Gen.  Cook's  assistants. 

It  was  in  August,  1878 — August  14 — that  a  bold  attempt 
was  made  by  a  party  of  these  road  agents  to  commit  one  of  the 
most  fiendish  crimes  ever  perpetrated  by  outlaws  in  any  land. 
The  party  consisted  of  Frank  James,  one  of  the  James  brothers, 
but  who  went  by  the  name  of  McKinuey;  of  Dutch  Charley,  Frank 
Toll,  Sim  Wan,  Big-Nosed  George,  Tom  Eeed,  Sandy  Campbell 
and  Cully  McDonald.  Thej^  had  come  in  from  the  northern 
country  to  a  point  on  the  Union  Pacific  railroad  where  it  crosses 
the  Medicine  Bow  river,  eighty-two  miles  west  of  Laramie  City, 
in  Wyoming.  The  embankments  of  the  road  approaching  the 
river  are  exceedingly  steep,  about  sixty  feet  high,  and  are  made 
of  large,  rough  stone  taken  from  the  cuts  in  the  road.  A  more 
jagged  or  more  broken  place  than  these  embankments  it  would 
be  difQcult  to  imagine. 

It  was  to  this  place  that  these  road  agents  had  come  with  the 
intention  of  throwing  the  west-bound  passenger  train,  on  the  14th 
of  August,  from  the  track,  and  of  precipitating  it  down  the  em- 
bankment, hoping  to  kill  or  to  badly  cripple  all  the  train  oper- 
atives and  passengers,  and  thus  make  easy  work  of  the  robbery, 
which  was  the  purpose  of  the  undertaking.  To  accomplish  this 
fask  they  had  cut  the  telegraph  wire  at  the  point  and  had  tied  one 


A  DEAL  WITH  THE  BLACK  HILLS  ROAD  AGENTS.        239 

end  of  a  long  piece  of  wire,  after  loosening  the  spikes,  to  a  rail^ 
the  other  end  being  in  the  hands  of  the  robbers,  who  were 
secreted  behind  a  convenient  embankment.  The  plan  was  to  pull 
the  rail  out  just  as  the  locomotive  should  reach  it,  and  to  tumble 
the  entire  train  and  its  burden  of  treasure  and  humanity  down 
this  fill.  The  time  as  well  as  the  place  was  well  chosen,  the  train 
at  that  season  of  the  year  passing  the  spot  about  dusk. 

But  for  what  really  seems  a  special  act  of  Providence,  the  en- 
tire train  would  certainlj'  have  been  hurled  over  this  precipice; 
and  the  wires  being  cut,  the  highwaymen  would  have  been  far 
away  with  their  booty  before  the  terrible  deed  could  have  be- 
come known.  The  instrument  whom  fate  chose  to  avert  this  ter- 
rible catastrophe  was  an  humble  member  of  the  race — the  boss 
of  the  repair  section  of  the  road — who,  finding  after  quitting  his 
day's  work  that  he  had  left  his  tools  on  the  Medicine  Bow  bridge,, 
returned  to  procure  them.  Passing  along  he  noticed  that  the 
spikes  were  out,  and  saw  the  wire  attached  to  the  rail.  He  com- 
prehended the  situation  in  a  moment,  and  his  heart  must  have 
leaped  into  his  mouth.  But  he  was  a  man  out  of  a  thousand  in 
coolness  and  self-possession.  Manifesting  no  sign  that  he  had 
made  a  discovery,  he  walked  quietly  forward,  picked  up  his  tools^ 
came  back  and  passed  the  dead-fall  again  on  his  return,  still 
.showing  no  concern  whatever  by  his  manner.  Had  he  made  the 
least  sign,  there  is  no  doubt  that  he  would  have  been  killed,  and 
that  the  robbers  and  murderers  would  have  been  enabled  to  put 
their  hellish  plot  into  execution. 

Walking  past  the  trap,  he  proceeded  towards  home.  He  bad 
scarcely  gone  around  the  next  curve  when  he  heard  the  train 
humming  forward  at  a  fearful  rate  of  speed.  He  quietly  flagged 
it  and,  of  course,  when  he  had  told  his  story,  the  train  was  backed. 
The  robbers  were  foiled  in  their  purpose,  and  one  hundred  and 
fifty  lives,  to  say  nothing  of  property,  were  saved. 

The  whole  country  was  aroused  to  vengeance  when  the  full 
scope  of  the  terrible  plot  was  developed  and  comprehended  in  its 
hellish  entirety.  Large  rewards  were  offered  for  the  capture  of 
the  outlaws,  and  numbers  of  good  people  turned  out  to  hunt  down 
the  men  who  had  demonstrated  that  they  lacked  opportunity 


240        A  DEAL  WITH  THE  BLACK  HILLS  ROAD  AGENTS. 

only  to  be  guilty  of  a  deed  which  would  have  caused  the  entire 
continent  to  shudder  in  the  contemplation  of  it. 

But  the  robbers  were  not  caught  then.  Indeed,  some  of  them, 
including  Frank  James,  are  still  at  large.  The  pursuit  was  kept 
up  for  several  days.  Detective  Boswell  joined  the  pursuing 
party,  but  they  succeeded  only  in  driving  the  rascals  out  of  the 
section;  not,  however,  until  they  had  shot  down  in  cold  blood 
(wo  deputy  sheriffs — Vincent  and  Widowfleld — who  were  search- 
ing for  them  in  the  Elk  mountains.  After  this  shooting  the  rob- 
bers left  for  the  north,  maintaining  for  a  short  time  a  rendezvous 
on  the  Dry  Cheyenne  river,  and  evaded  all  pursuit,  which  was 
ultimately  abandoned.  Soon  after  the  band  began  to  operate  on 
the  stage  lines  again,  and  it  gradually  changed  until  there  were 
but  two  left  who  had  been  in  any  way  identified  with  the  railroad 
raiders,  these  two  being  Dutch  Charley  and  Joe  Manuse.  Frank 
James  had  left  for  Montana,  and  John  Erwin  had  become  leader 
of  the  Dry  Cheyenne  band. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

THE  BAND  REORGANIZED— ANOTHER  RAID  ON  THE  UNION  PACIFIC 
AT  ROCK  CREEK  BY  A  GANG  OF  SEVEN— THEIR  PLANS  SPOILED 
BY  A  TRAITOR— A  SHERIFF  NEGLECTS  TO  DO  HIS  DUTY,  AND 
THE  ROCKY  MOUNTAIN  DETECTIVE  ASSOCIATION  IS  CALLED 
UPON— ASSISTANT  SUPERINTENDENT  BOSWELL  TAKES  THE 
MATTER  IN  HAND  AND  BEARDS  THE  LION  IN  HIS  DEN— THE  ROB- 
BERS CAPTURED  IN  THEIR  HIDING  PLACE  BEFORE  DAYLIGHT- 
DETECTIVE  WORK  WITH  THE  MERCURY  THIRTY  DEGREES 
BELOW  ZERO— A  CONFESSION  OF  A  CHUM  LEADS  TO  DUTCH 
CHARLEY'S  DEATH  AT  THE  HANDS  OF  JUDGE  LYNCH— FATE  OF 
THE  OTHER  MEMBERS  OF  THE  GANG— STORY  OF  THE  CAREER 
OF  "THE  KID"— SOME  OF  HIS  EXTRAORDINARY  EXPLOITS  ON  THE 
DEADWOOD  LINE. 

Early  in  December,  1S78,  a  portion  of  this  band,  consisting  of 
Erwin,  Manuse,  Dutch  Charley,  Frank  Ruby,  A.  C.  Douglas, 
Hank  Harrington,  Frank  Howard  and  Charles  Condon  (alias 
''The  Kid")  decided  upon  another  raid  upon  the  railroad,  and  this 
time  selected  as  the  point  of  their  attack  the  bridge  across  Rock 
creek,  fifty-six  miles  west  of  Laramie  City.  Their  programme  in- 
cluded the  robbery  of  the  train,  and  also  of  the  hotel  kept  at  the 
point  by  ex-Gov.  Thayer,  of  Wyoming. 

The  plot  was  quite  as  devilish  as  that  which  had  been  frus- 
trated at  Medicine  Bow,  but  it  never  came  so  near  bearing  fruit  as 
the  former  one  did.  It  was  frustrated  through  the  efforts  princi- 
pally of  two  men,  named  Frank  Howard,  one  of  the  party,  and 
Detective  Boswell,  who  succeeded  in  taking  in  the  entire  band  by 
a  very  bold  and  shrewdly  arranged  move  upon  them. 

Frank  Howard  was  a  member  of  the  party  as  it  started  from 
the  north  for  the  purpose  of  committing  the  robberies  planned  as 
above  stated.  The  party  came  south  to  within  a  few  miles  of 
their  destination  and,  camping  in  a  spot  where  they  supposed 
themselves  safe,  decided  to  send  a  member  of  their  organization 
to  the  station  to  look  over  the  land  and  make  report  upon  the 


242        ^  DEAL  ^YITH  THE  BLACK  HILLS  ROAD  AGENTS. 

prospects  there.  The  performance  of  this  duty  fell  to  Howard, 
whose  conscience  appears  to  have  been  considerably  wrought 
upon,  and  whose  heart  failed  him  in  the  work  in  w^hich  he  was 
about  to  engage.  As  a  consequence  of  this  state  of  his  mind  he 
decided  to  frustrate  the  plans  of  his  associates,  prevent  the  raid 
and  assist  in  securing  the  capture  of  the  band.  He  laid  the  entire 
story  before  Gov.  Thayer,  who  was  not  slow  in  communicating  it 
to  the  authorities  of  Albany  county. 

Mr.  Bosw-ell  was  not  then  acting  sheriff  of  the  county,  al- 
though he  had  but  recently  been  elected  to  that  position.  The 
sheriff  was  notified,  but  did  not  act.  Gov.  Thayer  then  informed 
the  officials  of  the  Union  Pacific  railroad  of  the  intentions  of  the 
cut-throats,  some  of  them  being  at  Ogden,  Utah.  They  took  the 
matter  in  hand  and  began  to  communicate  -by  telegraph  with  the 
sheriff  of  Albany  county.  But  he  did  not  heed  their  dispatches 
or  take  any  steps  to  grant  their  request  that  the  contemplated 
train  wrecking  be  prevented  and  an  effort  made  to  overtake  the 
criminals  while  there  was  a  chance  of  finding  them. 

Two  days  were  spent  in  this  way,  and  at  last  the  Union  Pa- 
cific people  telegraphed  Mr.  Bos  well,  as  a  member  of  the  Rocky 
Mountain  Detective  Association,  and  requested  him  to  see  if 
something  could  not  be  done,  offering  a  reward  of  |250  each  for 
the  capture  of  the  gang.  Mr.  Boswell  went  to  see  the  sheriff,  who, 
upon  being  approached,  declared  that  he  had  been  unable  to  get 
men  to  go  along  with  him  to  make  the  effort  to  arrest  the 
''agents."  Mr.  Boswell  thereupon  undertook  the  case.  In  a  very 
few  minutes  he  had  found  ten  determined  men  who  were  willing 
to  go  with  him,  and  he  announced  his  readiness  to  proceed  with 
the  undertaking.  A  special  train  was  provided  and  the  men  w^ere 
soon  on  their  way,  starting  after  nightfall  of  Saturday,  Decem- 
ber 24. 

The  hour  of  midnight  had  already  passed  when  Rock  Creek 
station  was  reached,  but  Boswell  decided  that  if  anything  was  to 
be  done  it  must  be  promptly  done,  and,  gathering  up  horses  for 
his  men,  they  started  out  at  3  o'clock  on  Christmas  morning  in 
search  of  their  game.  It  was  dark;  the  ground  was  covered  with 
snow;  there  was  a  stiff  wind  blowing,  and  the  mercury  touched 
at  30°  below  zero. 


A  DEAL  WITH  THE  BLACK  HILLS  ROAD  AGENTS.        243 

Howard  bad  been  faithful  to  bis  trust,  and  was  willing  to 
give  all  tbe  information  which  be  possessed  as  to  the  w^bereabouts 
of  his  gang.  But  they  were  discovered  to  have  moved  since  his 
most  recent  visit  to  them,  and  their  exact  whereabouts  were  un- 
known to  him.  Tbe  officers  chanced  to  learn  that  an  old  ranch- 
man in  the  neighborhood  had  supplied  tbe  robbers  with  food 
after  their  change  of  base.  His  bouse  was  found,  and  he  w'as 
dragged  out  of  bed  and,  by  means  of  threats  and  tender  of  re- 
ward, he  was  prevailed  upon  to  accompany  tbe  officers  to  the 
hiding  place. 

Tbe  locality  pointed  out  was  a  deep  ravine  which  had  been 
cut  into  a  hillside.  Indeed,  there  was  a  network  of  gulches  and 
ravines,  and  the  robber  gang  had  chosen  a  place  near  the  center, 
where,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  they  would  never  have 
been  discovered,  and  where  their  biding  place  would  have  proved 
an  excellent  fortress  for  them  if  their  cunning  bad  not  been  met 
by  equal  shrewdness  on  tbe  part  of  their  pursuers.  They  were 
hidden  away  under  a  protruding  cliff  and  a  little  niche  in  the 
ravine  formed  by  a  tributary  stream,  now  dry. 

Daylight  was  just  beginning  to  dawn  when  the  old  farmer 
pointed  out  this  place,  received  his  reward  and  took  bis  de- 
parture. A  moment  later  a  blue  streak  of  smoke  shot  up 
througli  the  cold  air,  and  the  officers  were  no  longer  in  doubt 
that  they  had  treed  their  game.  They  were  also  convinced  that, 
if  they  would  secure  the  robbers  without  a  fight,  they  must  act 
with  dispatch. 

It  required  but  a  few  moments  for  ]Mr.  Boswell  to  dispose 
of  his  men,  who  were  stationed  with  guns  cocked  at  the  best 
places  surrounding  tbe  biding  place.  Having  left  his  assistants 
with  their  guns  in  their  hands  and  ready  to  fire  at  a  moment's 
notice,  he  crawled  up  behind  a  large  rock  standing  in  front  of 
the  robbers'  den  and  looking  down  upon  their  sleeping  place. 

Creeping  along  with  extreme  caution  he  reached  the  edge 
of  the  rock  and  cautiously  looked  over.  There  were  six  of  the 
scoundrels  in  camp,  namely,  Erwin,  Ruby,  Condon,  Harrington, 
Douglas  and  Dutch  Charley.  He  saw  at  a  glance  that  only  one 
of  them  had  arisen  from  his  bed.  He  bad  made  tbe  fire  and 
was  standing  in  front  of  it  unarmed,  while  the  others  still  lay 


244        A  DEAL  WITH  THE  BLACK  HILLS  ROAD  AGENTS. 

wrapped  closely  in  tlieir  blanket  beds  and  apparentl}^  enjoying 
their  morning  naps.  Getting  his  guns  ready  he  shouted  to  them^ 
clear  as  a  clap  of  thunder: 

''Hold  up  your  hands!" 

All  was  virtually  over. 

The  men  awoke  with  a  start,  and  almost  in  an  instant  five 
pairs  of  hands  shot  into  the  air.  There  was  but  one  exception 
in  obeying  the  command,  and  that  exception  was  noticed  in  the 
one  from  whom  it  would  have  naturally  been  least  expected, 
''the  Kid"  being  the  only  one  to  fail.  Instead  of  throwing  up 
his  hands,  he  began  to  draw  his  pistol. 

"Put  that  gun  down,  boy,"  said  one  of  the  older  members. 
"He  will  kill  you  in  an  instant.    Don't  you  see  he's  got  the  drop 

on   us?     It's  Boswell,  you   d d  fool.     You   can't  get  away 

with  old  Boswell." 

The  boy  dropped  the  gun.  Mr.  Boswell's  men  came  up,  and 
the  capture  of  all  was  efl'ected,  with  the  exception  of  Manuse, 
who  had  gone  out  to  hunt  the  horses.  He  was  found  and  taken 
without  any  difficulty,  and  the  entire  party  marched  into  the 
station  and  afterwards  taken  to  Laramie  City,  where  they  were 
safely  lodged  in  jail  and  afterwards  disposed  of. 

It  was  believed  that  several  of  the  captives  had  participated 
in  the  Medicine  Bow  affair,  and  that  some  of  them  were  par- 
tially responsible  for  the  murder  of  Widowfield  and  Vincent. 
Such  proved  to  be  the  case.  Mr.  Boswell,  as  a  detective,  ad- 
vised a  measure  which  he  thought  would  assist  in  the  discovery 
of  the  truth  in  the  matt.er.  Manuse  was  believed  to  have  been 
one  of  the  members  of  the  gang,  and  the  railroad  employees  were 
given  an  opportunity  to  remain  alone  with  him  long  enough  to 
find  out.  Refusing  to  reveal  anything,  he  was  stretched  up  with 
an  ugly  rope  around  his  neck,  and  held  in  a  choking  position 
until  he  was  almost  dead.  Being  let  down,  he  again  declined 
to  talk.  He  was  strung  up  again,  and  this  time,  beginning  to 
fear  that  his  own  life  would  be  taken  then  and  there,  volunteered 
to  make  a  confession.  From  this  it  appeared  that  he  had  started 
out  with  the  gang  to  go  to  Medicine  Bow,  and  was  separated  from 
the  party  and  failed  to  reach  the  railroad  with  them.  Dutch 
Charley,  one  of  the  captives,  was,  however,  with  the  gang,  and 


A  DEAL  ^yITH  THE  BLACK  HILLS  ROAD  AGENTS.        247 

proved  to  have  been  the  very  man  who  had  first  fired  upon  the 
deputies.  As  he  had  told  the  story  to  Manuse,  these  two  men 
had  gotten  upon  the  trail  of  the  would-be  wreckers  and  were 
pushing  them  hard.  They  had  followed  them  into  a  canon  in 
the  Elk  mountains  and  came  near  going  upon  the  scoundrels 
just  as  they  were  leaving  camp  after  remaining  all  night.  The 
robbers  left  hurridly,  tossing  the  burning  chunks  from  their  fire 
into  a  stream  of  water  near  the  camping  place  and  taking  to 
their  horses.  Being  well  mounted,  the  robbers  stopped  a  few 
rods  away  and  concluded  to  watch  the  movements  of  the  officers, 
being  concealed  themselves.  The  officers  coming  up  to  the  fire, 
one  of  them  dismounted  and  stuck  his  hand  into  the  ashes,  ex- 
claiming to  his  comrade:  , 

"We  are  close  upon  their  heels.    It's  hot  as  hell." 

''Yes,  you  son  of  a  bitch,  it's  pretty  damned  hot,  and  we'll 
just  give  you  a  chance  to  find  out  how^  hot  hell  is." 

Thus  responded  Dutch  Charley  for  his  gang,  at  the  same 
time  drawing  a  bead  on  the  dismounted  officer  and  notifying 
him  to  prepare  to  die.  He  attempted  to  mount,  but  was  shot 
down  by  Charley  as  he  got  up.  The  other  officer  attempted  to 
escape  by  flight,  but  a  dozen  bullets  were  sent  flying  after  him 
as  his  horse  ran  at  full  speed  down  the  canon,  and  he  fell  dead 
with  three  holes  through  his  body,  the  gang  then  disbanding 
and  making  their  escape. 

This  story  of  Manuse's  was  sufficient  to  seal  the  fate  of 
Dutch  Charle}'.  It  was  decided  that  as  the  killing  of  the 
deputies  had  taken  place  in  Carbon  county  and  not  in  Albany, 
he  should  be  tried  there,  and  he  was  put  on  the  train  and  started 
for  Kawlins  for  trial.  He  never  reached  his  destination.  He 
was  taken  off  of  the  train  when  near  the  place,  by  a  party  of 
armed  and  masked  vigilantes,  and  swung  up  to  a  telegraph  pole 
to  expiate  this  terrible  crime,  and  his  body  left  hanging  for 
several  davs  as  meat  for  the  buzzards. 

The  other  members  of  the  Rock  Creek  gang  were  tried. 
Harrington  turned  state's  evidence,  but  being  sent  to  Fort 
McKinney  to  identify  supposed  stage  robbers,  was  shot  by  a 
man  named  Smith,  who  claimed  that  Harrington  had  killed  his 
brother.     Very  little  could  be  proved  against  Douglas,  except 


248        ^  DEAL  WITH  THE  BLACK  HILLS  ROAD  AGENTS. 

as  to  his  evil  intentions.  He  had  been  superintendent  of  the 
Rock  Creek  stage  line,  and  used  his  knowledge  obtained  through 
his  position  to  aid  the  stage  robbers  in  their  work,  notifying 
them  by  letter  or  telegraph,  signed  ''Henry  Ward  Beecher," 
when  there  was  treasure  or  "good  plucking-'  on  the  coaches. 
He  had  never  been  in  a  robbery,  so  far  as  could  be  proven,  and 
was  given  only  one  year  in  the  penitentiary.  Manuse  and  Ruby 
were  sentenced  to  four  years  each,  and  Erwin,  the  captain,  and 
Condon,  ''The  Kid,"  were  sentenced  for  life.  As  for  Howard, 
he  was  made  a  detective  on  the  railroad,  and  rendered  the  com- 
pany valuable  service.  The  robbers  have  sworn  to  have  venge- 
ance upon  him  for  betraying  them  and  being  the  primary  cause 
of  their  getting  into  the  hands  of  the  officers  instead  of  procur- 
ing big  booty  and  retiring  to  the  safe  recesses  of  the  great  North- 
west. ' 


IN  THE  EXPRESS  BUSINESS.  i  : 

CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

BIG  SUMS  OF  MONEY  CARRIED  THROUGH  THIEF-INFESTED  DISTRICTS 
WITHOUT  LOSS— A  REMARKABLE  TRIP  TO  LEADVILLE  IN  1878— 
GEN.  COOK  SAVES  A  MINING  COMPANY  SEVERAL  HUNDRED 
THOUSAND   DOLLARS   BY  HIS   PROMPTNESS. 

Along  in  the  '60's  and  eai'lv  'TO's  when  Colorado  was  not 
covered  with  a  network  of  railroad  and  telegraph  lines  as  it  is 
to-day,  bankers  and  others  who  wished  to  transmit  large  sums 
of  money  from  one  point  to  another  were  often  put  to  sore 
.straits  for  some  means  to  accomplish  their  object.  The. stage 
coaches  which  carried  mail,  passengers  and  express  to  nearly 
every  part  of  the  state,  were  too  risky.  Holdups  were  of  fre- 
quent occurrence,  often  it  was  thought  through  the  connivance 
and  assistance  of  the  driA'ers  themselves.  Then,  too,  they  were 
slow  and  uncertain;  a  washout  or  snowslide  might  detain  them 
for  days  at  a  time. 

Accordingly  it  became  necessary  to  secure  the  services  of 
men  who  were  not  only  honest  and  trustworthy  themselves,  but 
who  were  known  to  be  ''handy  with  a  gun,"  and  who  would  risk 
their  lives  if  necessary  for  the  protection  of  the  property  en- 
trusted to  their  care.  It  was  because  of  this  that  the  Rocky 
Mountain  Detective  Association  was  often  called  upon  when  any 
particularly  large  sums  of  money  were  to  be  carried  from  Den- 
ver to  mountain  towns.  One  or  two  cases  are  called  to  mind, 
not  only  by  the  implicit  confidence  displayed  by  the  bankers  in 
Gen.  Cook  and  his  aides,  but  also  by  the  faithful  manner  in 
which  the.y  discharged  the  responsible  duties  which  they  were 
called  upon  to  perform. 

In  January,  1870,  Kountze  Bros.,  of  the  Colorado  National 
Bank  of  Denver,  who  are  still  the  leading  bankers  of  the  whole 
western  country,  were  running  a  branch  bank  at  Central  Citj-, 
known  as  the  Rocky  Mountain  National.     A  well  known  mill 


250  IN  THE  EXPRESS  BUSINESS. 

man,  whose  name  has  been  forgotten,  came  in  one  day  to 
secure  an  additional  loan  of  |2,500  on  his  mill,  which  was 
already  mortgaged  for  |25,000.  The  local  manager,  of  course, 
refused  to  make  the  loan,  and  the  fellow  went  out  of  the  bank 
with  the  threat  that  he  would  "fix  'em."  And  he  came  pretty 
nearly  doing  so,  too.  He  rode  around  to  the  various  camps, 
telling  the  men  that  if  they  had  any  money  in  the  bank  at 
Central  they  had  better  get  it  out  in  a  hurry,  as  the  bank  was 
practically  ';busted."  "Why,"  he  said,  "I  couldn't  get  $2,500  on 
my  mill  from  them."  As  his  property  was  popularly  supposed 
to  be  worth  |30,000  or  more,  this  of  course  frightened  hundreds 
of  timid  depositors,  and  a  run  on  the  bank  was  begun  at  once. 

The  local  manager  hurriedly  dispatched  a  messenger  to  Den- 
er  for  aid.  Mr.  Charles  Kountze,  one  of  the  firm,  hastily  counted 
out  150,000,  and  placing  it  in  a  grip,  sent  for  Gen.  Cook  to  ac- 
company him  to  Central.  Placing  the  grip  under  the  buggy 
seatj  and  a  couple  of  good  guns  where  they  could  be  easily  got 
at,  Cook  and  Kountze  drove  out  of  Denver  at  11  o'clock  at  night, 
and  arrived  in  Central  the  next  morning  after  a  hard  drive.  A 
wild  mob  surged  around  the  bank  as  soon  as  the  doors  were 
opened,  and  though  the  tellers  were  paying  off  depositors  as 
rapidly  as  possible,  Kountze  feared  that  there  might  be  trouble, 
and  employed  Gen.  Cook  to  remain  in  the  bank  as  a  guard  that 
day.  At  the  close  of  banking  hours  they  hitched  up  their  rig 
and  drove  back  to  Denver,  reaching  the  city  about  1  o'clock 
that  nigjit.  As  they  crossed  the  Platte  bridge,  Kountze  said 
to  Cook:    "Dave,  you'll  have  to  go  right  back  again  to-night." 

Although  fatigued  with  two  long  drives  over  rough  mount- 
ain roads  and  nearly  sick  from  cold  and  loss  of  sleep.  Gen.  Cook 
did  not  hesitate,  but  securing  a  fresh  team,  started  back  once 
more,  this  time  accompanied  by  an  employe  of  the  bank  named 
Potter,  who  carried  the  grip  containing  |75,000.  They  reached 
Central  in  good  time,  and  by  2  o'clock  the  next  afternoon  con- 
fidence in  the  bank's  stability  was  again  restored,  and  the  run 
was  over.  Gen.  Cook  received  not  only  a  substantial  pecuniary 
reward  for  his  three  days'  and  two  nights'  hard  work,  but  the 
lasting  gratitude  of  the  bank  officials  as  well. 

During  the   exciting  times  in   Georgetown    in    May,    1875, 


IN  THE  EXPRESS  BUSINESS.  .  05 ^ 

which  grew  out  of  the  Dives-Pelican  mining  suits,  and  culmi- 
nated in  the  murder  of  Snyder,  the  superintendent  of  the  Pelican 
mine,  by  Jack  Bishoi),  the  Dives  mine  superintendent,  the  Peli- 
can people  employed  Gen.  Cook,  C.  B.  Hoyt,  the  present  warden 
of  the  State  Eeformatory  at  BUena  Vista;  W.  F.  Smith  and 
other  members  of  the  association  as  a  body  guard  for  their  legal 
counsel,  Senator  Henry  M.  Teller  and  ex-Congressman  James 
H.  Belford,  w^ho  flatly  refused  to  go  to  Georgetown  unless  ac- 
companied by  an  armed  guard  to  protect  them  from  the  excited 
mob. 

Learning  that  Gen.  Cook  was  going  to  Georgetown,  Presi- 
dent Moftat  asked  him  to  carry  |75,000  in  currency  to  their 
branch  bank  at  that  place,  as  he  feared  that  a  run  might  be 
started  on  the  bank  during  the  excitement.  Gen.  Cook  agreed 
to  this,  and  he  and  J.  L.  McNeal,  an  employ^  of  the.  bank,  put- 
the  money  in  a  buggy  and  drove  up  there  one  night,  reaching 
Georgetown  in  safety. 

During  the  trial,  one  of  the  opposing  counsel  took  occasion 
to  make  a  sarcastic  reference  to  the  ''armed  body  guard  of  man- 
killers"  that  the  Denver  lawyers  had  brought  with  them,  and 
he  and  the  lawless  element  that  then  dominated  Georgetown  got 
the  worst  roasting  from  Congressman  Belford  that  they  had 
ever  heard  in  their  lives.  The  Pelican  people  won  their  suit, 
and  the  trouble  finally  quieted  down,  although  the  murderer, 
Bishop,  was  never  apprehended. 

In  the  latter  part  of  June,  1878,  a  company  that  was  work- 
ing the  Goneabroad  and  Small  Hopes  mining  claims  at  Lead- 
ville  under  lease  and  bond,  made  an  exceedingly  rich  strike, 
the  first  made  in  the  camp.  They  made  the  strike  only  a  week 
before  the  expiration  of  their  lease,  and  unless  they  could  raise 
the  $20,000  on  the  date  when  their  lease  and  option  expired,  the 
valuable  property,  worth  at  least  $300,000,  would  pass  into  the 
hands  of  the  original  owners.  The  company  sent  a  man  to 
Denver  to  make  arrangements  to  borrow  the  needed  sum,  in 
which  he  was  successful,  returning  to  Leadville  with  a  certified 
check  on  the  Colorado  National  Bank  for  |20,000.  To  their  sur- 
prise, the  owners  refused  to  accept  the  certified  check,  and  an- 
nounced that  nothing  but  the  money  would  do.     By  this  plan 


252  •  IN  THE  EXPRESS  BUSINESS.. 

they  expected  that  they  would  obtain  possession  of  the  mine, 
as  the  time  had  so  nearly  expired  that  they  thought  it  would 
be  impossible  to  get  the  money  there  in  time.  Parker,  one  of 
the  lessees,  hastened  back  to  Denver  to  secure  the  currency,  if 
possible.  President  Konntze  of  the  bank  did  not  know  Parker, 
but  told  him  if  he  could  get  Dave  Cook  to  carry  the  money 
through  he  would  be  willing  to  trust  him  with  it.  Otherwise 
he  did  not  care  to  take  the  risk,  Parker  hunted  up  Gen.  Cook, 
and  arrangements  were  made  to  start  at  once.  This  was  the 
4th  of  July  and  the  lease  expired  on  the  5th — the  distance  to 
be  traveled  was  145  miles  over  rough  mountain  roads — a  seem- 
ingly impossible  feat.  Gen.  Cook  hunted  up  Frank  Smith,  and 
just  about  noon  they,  with  Parker,  in  a  light  rig,  started  on 
their  long  drive.  They  drove  rapidly  all  afternoon,  all  that 
night  and  until  noon  the  next  day,  when  they  reached  Fairplay, 
stopping  only  long  enough  to  change  horses.  Almost  worn  out 
with  the  long  ride  and  loss  of  sleep  it  appeared  that  they  could 
not  possibly  reach  Leadville  before  the  bank  closed,  and  if  they 
could  not,  all  was  lost.  Parker  gave  up  in  despair.  Gen.  Cook, 
however,  resourceful  as  usual,  hunted  up  Sheriff  John  Ifinger, 
and  found  out  from  him  that  it  was  possible  they  might  get 
through  in  time  bj'  taking  a  short  cut  on  horseback  across  the 
Mesquite  range  through  Mosquito  pass. 

Gen.  Cook  gave  him  $50  to  guide  them,  and  offered  to  pay 
for  all  horses  killed  in  making  the  attempt.  The  part}^  secured 
good  saddle  horses  and  left  Fairplay  at  twenty-eight  minutes 
after  1  o'clock.  Spurring  their  horses  across  the  more  level 
parts  of  the  trail,  dismounting  and  leading  them  up  steep, 
slippery  paths,  and  around  walls  of  rock  overhanging  caiions 
hundreds  of  feet  deep,  where  the  slightest  misstep  would  have 
proved  fatal,  they  at  length  crossed  the  pass,  and  just  three 
minutes  before  3  o'clock,  when  they  supposed  the  bank  would 
close,  rode  up  to  that  institution  with  the  money. 

The  chagrin  of  the  owners  who  had  felt  so  certain  of  regain- 
ing possession  of  the  property  was  only  equaled  by  the  joy  of 
the  lessees.  They  overwhelmed  Cook  and  Smith  with  atten- 
tions, and  during  their  stay  in  Leadville  nothing  in  the  camp 


IN  THE  EXPRESS  BUSINESS.  253 

was  too  good  for  them,  and  they  were  given  a  handsome  re- 
ward besides. 

These  are  only  a  few  of  the  many  eases  in  which  the  Rocky 
Mountain  Detective  Association  has  been  called  upon  to  per- 
form difficult  and  seemingly  impossible  tasks,  and  to  its  credit 
be  it  said,  it  has  never  yet  been  "found  wanting,"  but  has  ever 
performed  every  duty. 


A  FARM  HAND'S  AWFUL  CRIME. 
CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

THEODORE  MEYERS  AND  THE  TRAGEDY  OF  1871-3— EMPLOYED  ON  A 
RANCH  NEAR  DENVER,  HE  KILLS  HIS  EMPLOYER,  GEORGE  BONAN- 
CINA,  AND  MAKES  AN  EFFORT  TO  MURDER  HIS  SISTER,  MRS. 
NEWTON-HE  PLANTS  SEVEN  BUCKSHOT  IN  HER  BREAST,  BUT 
SHE  IS  NOT  KILLED  OUTRIGHT,  AND  AFTER  A  HORRIBLE  NIGHT 
ALONE  SHE  GETS  TO  DENVER,  WHERE  SHE  TELLS  HER  STORY 
TO    GEN.   COOK,    WHO   TAKES   THE    ROAD   AND    RUNS   THE    MUR- 

■  DERER   DOWN. 

There  has  been  but  one  execution  of  a  criminal  in  Denver  to 
the  present  time  since  the  24th  day  of  January,  1873.  On  that 
day  Theodore  Meyers  gave  up  his  life  on  the  gallows  in  expia- 
tion of  the  crime  he  had  committed  on  the  night  of  the  8th  of 
August,  1871,  in  the  murder  of  George  Bonacina,  a  ranchman 
living  on  the  Platte,  twelve  miles  above  Denver,  and  four  miles 
beyond  Littleton. 

Meyers  was  arrested  not  alone  for  the  murder  of  Bonacina, 
but  also  for  an  attempt  to  murder  his  sister,  a  Mrs.  Belle  New- 
ton, who  lived  with  her  brother  on  the  ranch,  Mrs.  Newton 
was  a  woman  at  that  time  about  thirty  years  of  age,  and  was 
of  prepossessing  personal  appearance.  She  was  possessed  of 
fascinating  manners,  and  had  the  reputation  in  the  neighbor- 
hood in  which  she  resided  of  being  quite  too  ''exclusive"  to 
please  the  other  residents.  She  had  resided  in  Omaha  previous 
to  1869,  when  she  caiie  to  Cheyenne,  whence  she  removed  to 
Denver  in  1870.  Soon  after  coming  to  Denver,  Mrs.  Newton 
established  herself  in  the  millinery  business,  and  while  so  en- 
gaged she  became  engaged  to  and  married  a  Mr.  Benjamin 
Friedenthal,  removing  with  him  soon  after  their  marriage  to 
the  ranch  already  described  on  the  Platte,  where  they  lived  for 
a  few  months.  But  their  married  life  was  not  a  happy  one,  and 
they  separated.     Mrs.  Newton's  brother  had  joined  her  on  the 


A  FARM  HAND'S  AWFUL  CRIME.  255 

farm,  and  they  continued  to  reside  there  after  Friedenthal  had 
taken  his  departure. 

To  properly  understand  the  interest  which  was  taken  in  the 
tragedy  at  the  ranch  it  should  be  known  that  rumor  had  wagged 
a  busy  tongue  in  the  neighborhood  in  which  Mrs.  Xewton  re- 
sided. It  was  alleged  that  Bonacina  was  not  the  brother  of 
the  woman,  but  Ji  clandestine  lover,  and  some  asserted  that  his 
intimacy  with  Mrs,  Friedenthal,  or  Mrs.  Newton,  had  been  the 
cause  of  the  separation  between  her  and  her  husband.  One  sup- 
position, when  the  story  of  the  murder  was  first  told,  was  that 
Friedenthal  had  been  in  some  way  responsible  for  the  crime. 
Another  theory  was  that  the  murderer  had  sought  to  establish 
intimate  relations  with  the  woman  himself,  and  that  Bonacina 
had  stepped  in  the  way  of  his  desires.  These  were  some  of  the 
surmises  which  filled  the  air,  and  which  rapidly  grew  into  re- 
ports which  professed  to  be  accurate. 

Mrs.  Newton  brought  the  first  account  of  the  tragedy  into 
Denver  herself.  She  arrived  in  the  city  about  11  o'clock  on 
Friday,  the  11th  of  August,  1871,  and  was  conveyed  to  the  Tre- 
mont  house,  standing  then  as  now  on  Twelfth  street,  at  the  in- 
tersection of  Blake. 

A  phj'sician  was  at  first  sent  for.  He  dressed  the  ugly 
wounds  which  the  poor  woman  bore.  As  many  as  seven  buck- 
shot were  ascertained  to  have  been  planted  squarely  in  her 
breast,  near  the  heart,  four  of  them  passing  entirely  through  the 
body  and  the  others  lodging  under  the  skin  in  the  back.  None 
of  the  balls  had  touched  the  heart,  but  it  hardly  seemed  possible 
that  so  many  pieces  of  lead  should  have  plowed  their  way 
through  a  human  body  Avithout  producing  a  fatal  result.  Her 
physician  told  her  that  she  did  not  have  one  chance  in  a  hun- 
dred. But  Mrs.  Newton  was  a  woman  of  nerve,  and  she  replied 
that  whether  she  lived  or  not  she  wanted  the  murderer  of  her 
brother  brought  to  justice. 

Sending  for  Gen.  Cook,  who  was  then  sheriff  of  Arapahoe 
countv,  she  told  him  the  storv  of  the  shooting  so  far  as  she  was 
able.  She  lay  on  a  bed  in  her  room  as  she  related  the  circum- 
stances. Her  face  was  as  white  as  death  from  loss  of  blood, 
and  her  voice  sank  to  a  mere  whisper  as  she  attempted  to  make 


25(3  A  FARM  HANDS  AAYFUL  CRIME. 

the  patient  officer  understand  sufficiently  well  to  pursue  the 
murderer  with  some  certainty  of  capturing  him.  Her  talk  was 
a  series  of  moans  and  groans,  interspersed  with  words  painfully 
drawn  out. 

She  had  no  doubt,  she  said,  that  the  man  whose  name  is 
given  as  Me3'ers  had  done  the  shooting,  but  she  did  not  know 
his  name,  describing  him  as  "a  Dutchman,  whose  first  name 
was  Theodore."  Relating  the  circumstances  of  the  affair,  and 
those  leading  up  to  it,  she  said  that  this  man  had  come  to  her 
and  her  brother  some  few  weeks  before  the  killing  to  obtaib 
work,  and  had  been  employed  as  a  hand  on  the  farm.  He  had 
previously  been  engaged  by  a  man  named  Lewis,  who  resided 
in  the  neighborhood,  but  had  been  discharged.  Bonacina  had 
stacked  his  grain  some  distance  from  the  house.  Meyers  rep- 
resented to  him  that  while  working  for  Lewis  he  had  heard 
threats  made  to  burn  it,  and  so  wrought  upon  the  feelings  of 
his  employers  that  they  procured  guns  and  ammunition,  and 
]3onacina  and  Meyers  began  sleeping  at  night  at  the  grain 
stacks,  some  fifty  yards  from  the  house,  for  the  purpose  of  pro- 
tecting the  grain  from  the  attacks  of  incendiaries.  They  had 
been  thus  engaged  for  about  two  weeks,  when  the  murder  and 
attempted  murder  occurred. 

The  two  men  went  to  their  out-door  beds  as  usual  on  the 
fatal  Thursday  night,  leaing  Mrs.  Newton  alone  in  the  house, 
where  she  retired  soon  after  the  men  had  taken  their  departure. 
She  was  sleeping  souudl}'^  when  she  was  awakened  by  the  sound 
.  of  a  pistol,  which  was  soon  followed  by  a  second  report.  The 
reports  appeared  to  be  in  the  direction  of  the  grain  stacks,  and 
Mrs.  Newton  rushed  to  the  window,  thinking  that  some  one 
had  come  to  burn  the  grain,  and  that  her  brother  and  the 
German  had  fired  upon  the  intruder.  She  had  been  out  of  bed 
but  a  second  when  she  heard  some  one  evidently  approaching 
the  house  from  the  direction  of  the  grain,  and  calling  her  loudly 
by  her  first  name,  "Belle!  Belle!  Belle!''  three  times  in  succes- 
sion. 

Mrs.  Newton  was  clad  in  the  thinnest  kind  of  night  clothes, 
wearing  nothing  but  a  light  undergarment.  She  was  so  thor- 
oughly' excited,  however,  at  the  noise  of  the  pistol  reports,  and 


A  FARM  HAND'S  AWFUL  CRIME.  957 

at  the  calling  out  of  her  own  name,  that  she  rushed  to  the  door 
and  opened  it.  As  she  swung  it  back,  the  German  employ«§ 
stepped  up,  with  a  shotgun  in  his  hand,  and  appeared  to  be 
considerably  excited,  replying  to  her  hurried  inquiry:  "They're 
here!    They're  around!" 

"Who's  here?" 

"The  grain  burners;  don't  you  know!" 

"But  where  is  my  brother — where  is  George?" 

"Oh,"  replied  the  man,  "he  is  pursuing  one  of  them — he's 
down  there." 

The  moon  was  just  about  its  first  quarter  and  was  sinking 
over  behind  the  adjacent  mountains,  but  still  gave  out  sufficient 
light  to  afford  an  indistinct  view  of  surrounding  objects.  It 
was  a  mellow,  warm  evening,  and  a  thousand  flies,  Dats  and 
whippoorwills  buzzed  and  sang  around.  Long  shadows  fell  upon 
the  ground  and  seemed  in  their  great  length  and  intensity  to 
add  a  hundred-fold  to  the  already  lonely  and  weird  view  sur- 
rounding. It  was  a  still,  dead  scene  that  presented  itself  as 
Mrs.  Newton,  clad  in  her  ghost-like  garb  of  white,  stepped  out 
of  lier  door  with  her  hand  raised  over  her  eyes  to  peer  along  the 
lines  of  the  shadows  down  to  where  her  brother  was.  She  had 
scarcely  turned  her  back  when — bang!  crash  I —  thundering  came 
the  report  of  a  gun  in  her  immediate  proximity,  and  she  felt  the 
hot  leaden  messengers  tearing  through  her  vitals. 

The  entire  load  of  buckshot  from  one  barrel  of  the  gun  had 
been  emptied  into  her  breast. 

"My  God,  what — what  is  this?  I  am  shot!  You  have  mur- 
dered me.  You  liave  murdered  George  and  now  you  have  mur- 
dered me.  You  have  shot  me  to  the  heart.  What  does  it 
mean?" 

The  badly  wounded  woman  did  not  fall,  but  staggered  to 
the  door  and  continued  to  support  herself  and  got  into  the 
liouse.    Meyers  cried  out  as  she  disappeared: 

"They  have  shot  you,  too;  I  will  find  them,"  and  started  off 
around  the  house.  Seeing  that  his  second  victim  still  lived,  he 
concluded  to  make  sure  of  her.  and  before  she  had  entirely  dis- 
appeared he  raised  the  gun  in  the  attempt  to  fire  another  shot. 
The  weapon  missed  fire,  and  a  second  later  the  door  was  closed 


258  ^^  FARM  HAND'S  AWFUL  CRIME. 

upon  him,  and  the  wounded  woman  was  alone  with  her  agony 
and  her  blood. 

As  she  staggered  into  the  house  she  took  her  right  hand 
from  her  breast,  where  it  had  served  to  stanch  the  flow  of  blood, 
and  caught  at  the  door  facing.  For  long  years  afterward,  and 
probably  such  is  still  the  case,  the  imprints  of  Mrs.  Newton's 
hands,  as  she  clenched  the  wood  with  the  grip  of  death,  re- 
mained to  mark  the  scene  of  the  tragedy.  Wash  and  scrub  as 
much  as  one  might,  the  stain  refused  to  come  out. 

A  lone,  long  night  it  was  that  followed — full  of  intense 
bodily  suffering,  of  great  mental  anxiety  for  her  own  welfare, 
full  of  distress  for  her  brother,  and  with  death  staring  her,  a 
lone  woman,  square  in  the  face.  Fearful  that  a  vital  spot  had 
been  touched  by  the  bullets,  and  considering  it  probable  that 
lier  would-be  murderer  would  return  at  any  time,  she  must  have 
been  filled  with  fear  and  anxiety.  She  chanced  to  pass  a  large 
mirror  in  the  room  as  she  went  in,  and  then  for  the  first  time 
fully  appreciated  the  extent  of  her  wound.  Her  one  garment 
was  even  then  a  mass  of  blood.  The  life  fluid  was  running  out 
from  the  bullet  holes  in  spurts.  Little  wonder  that  the  poor 
woman  at  first  became  frightened  and  lay  down  upon  her  bed 
undetermined  what  to  do. 

"But  I  will  not  be  a  coward,"  she  at  last  said  to  herself.  "I 
will  save  myself  if  I  can.  I  am  dying.  I  must  not  die.  If  I  die 
no  one  will  know  who  has  committed  this  horrible  deed.  I  will 
at  least  live  long  enough  to  see  that  this  murderer  is  brought 
to  justice."' 

She  had  strength  left  to  get  up  and  procure  towels  to  wrap 
herself  and  stop  the  blood  flow  and  to  get  a  bottle  of  liquor 
which  she  knew  to  be  in  the  house,  and  finding  that  she  did  not 
bleed  so  freely  when  standing  or  sitting  as  when  lying,  she 
mustered  all  her  strength  and  remained  up  the  greater  part  of 
the  night,  thinking  over  the  thousand  horrible  things  that  would 
naturally  troop  through  the  mind  of  any  one  situated  as  she 
was,  even  the  strongest  nerved  of  the  stouter  sex. 

Added  to  her  other  horrors  was  the  knowledge  that  there 
was  no  one  nearer  than  a  mile  from  her,  except,  perhaps,  the 
man   who   had   shot  her,   and   his  proximity   was   her   greatest 


A  FARM  HANDS  AWFUL  CRIME.  259 

dread.  She  had  already  convinced  herself  that  her  brother  had 
been  killed;  otherwise  he  would  have  come  to  her  assistance. 
''And  all  Tvas  silent  then,  and  I  was  alone  through  the  whole 
wretched  night,"  she  said  to  Gen.  Cook.  But  w^e  shall  not  at- 
tempt to  picture  the  agonies  of  those  few  lonely,  dark  hours. 
The  reader  may  well  imagine  the  experience  of  the  woman,  and 
if  he  can  not,  no  description  would  prove  adequate. 

At  last  the  glad  signs  of  day  began  to  make  their  appearance. 
The  gray  dawn  first  peered  in  through  the  windows  and  cracks, 
and  soon  afterwards  the  long,  slanting  rays  of  the  big  summer 
sun  were  coursing  their  way  across  the  floor  of  the  dreary, 
bloody  room,  bringing  with  them  messages  of  faint  hope  to  the 
sufferer.  How  she  must  have  prayed  for  the  sight  of  a  friendlj' 
face!  By  and  by  there  came  a  rumbling  sound  as  of  an  ap- 
proaching vehicle.  She  went  to  the  door.  The  road  was  some 
distance  from  the  house,  but  there  was  a  wagon  passing  by. 
Mrs.  Newton  cried  out  to  the  driver  and  waved  her  bloody  hands 
in  the  air  to  him.  Again  and  again  she  shouted  at  the  top  of 
her  voice.    But  to  no  purpose. 

She  saw  another  hope  pass  away  as  the  driver  went  on 
without  turning  his  head,  and  gradually  disappeared  around  a 
turn  in  the  road,  to  be  seen  no  more. 

Once  out  of  the  house  the  wounded  woman  determined  to 
obtain  assistance  of  some  sort.  Her  nearest  neighbor  was  a 
Mr,  Lyman,  living  dow^n  the  road  almost  a  mile  distant.  Thither- 
ward Mrs.  Newton  bent  her  footsteps,  dragging  herself  along 
with  an  energy  and  courage  that  would  have  done  credit  to  a 
strong  man. 

At  last  this  haven  was  reached,  and,  after  taking  a  rest, 
Mrs.  Newton's  desire  to  be  brought  to  Denver  where  she  could 
have  medical  assistance  and  see  the  officers  was  granted.  She 
was  accordingly  brought  into  town,  and  with  her  arrival  we  are 
brought  back  to  the  beginning  of  the  narrative. 

This  is  the  story  to  which  Gen.  Cook  had  listened.  It  had 
been  told  with  great  incoherence,  but  he  had  kept  the  threads 
of  it  well  together,  and  was  relieved  when  the  tragic  tale  had 
been  concluded.  Although  the  description  of  the  murderer,  who 
Cook  believed  to  be  the  German  farm  hand,  was  not  complete, 

9 


ft 
■2(^0  A  FARM  HAND'S  AWFUL  CRIME. 

he  had  hope  of  finding  further  evidence  at  the  ranch,  and  started 
out  with  the  promise  to  the  woman  that  he  would  overtalie  the 
murderer  of  her  brother  and  her  own  would-be  slayer.  And  he 
kept  the  promise  to  the  letter. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

ON  THE  TRACK  OF  THE  ASSASSIN— A  VISIT  TO  THE  SCENE  OF  THE 
TRAGEDY— THE  BODY  OF  BONANCINA  FOUND— SHOT  WHILE 
SLEEPING— MEYERS'  NATURALIZATION  PAPERS  REVEAL  HIS  NAME 
AND  HIS  PROBABLE  COURSE  OF  FLIGHT— OFF  FOR  PUEBLO  ON  A- 
STOLEN  HORSE— GEN.  COOK'S  PURSUIT  AND  CAPTURE  OF  THE 
FUGITIVE— A    CONFESSION    IN    THE    DENVER    JAIL. 

Chief  Cook  decided  immediately  upon  the  apprehension  of 
the  murderer.  AccordinglV,  immediateh'  after  hearing  the 
wounded  woman's  story,  he  started  out  to  the  ranch  on  the 
Platte,  accompanied  b}"  Frank  Smith.  The  only  clue  the  officers 
had  as  to  the  identity  of  the  murderer  was  his  first  name,  which 
the  woman  had  given  them.  After  a  thorough  search  about  the 
house,  the  floor  of  which  was  covered  with  blood,  the  officers 
found  the  German's  naturalization  papers,  and  then  for  the  first 
time  learned  his  full  name,  which  was  Theodore  Meyers.  Frona 
these  papers  they  learned  further  that  he  had  been  naturalized 
at  Pueblo,  Judge  Bradford  having  signed  the  papers.  From 
this  fact  they  concluded  that  he  must  have  resided  at  Pueblo 
for  some  time,  and  that  he  must  have  fnends  there,  and  hence 
decided  that  to  be  the  point  towards  which  he  most  probably 
would  turn  his  face  in  his  flight. 

The  oflicers  were  astonished  to  find  that  of  all  the  nearest 
neighbors,  onh'  Lyman's  family'  had  the  slightest  cognizance  of 
the  dreadful  tragedy.  The  people  of  the  vicinity,  some  of  whom 
were  harvesting  close  by,  when  informed  through  the  officers  of 
what  had  happened,  evinced  their  astonishment  in  utter  speech- 
lessness. 

The  officers  instituted  a  diligent  search  of  the  entire  prem- 
ises. The  bed  in  ]Mrs.  Newton's  room  had  absorbed  pools  of 
blood,  and  upon  the  door  panels,  staring  at  them  in  vivid  out- 
lines, were  the  impressions  in  blood  of  the  woman's  clutching 
hand.  Near  the  wheat  stack,  where  Bonacina  and  Meyers  had 
lain,  they  found  a  collection  of  robes,  and  close  by,  under  some 


252  -^  FARM   HANDS  AWFUL  CRIME. 

sheaves  of  oats,  and  snugly  wrapped  in  robes,  was  the  body  of 
the  murdered  man.  From  the  position  and  nature  of  things, 
and  from  the  attending  circumstances,  it  was  concluded  that 
Meyers  must  have  sat  upright  in  bed,  reached  forward  and 
placed  the  muzzle  of  his  piece  against  Bonacina's  temple,  and 
finished  his  victim  while  he  lay  asleep.  The  body  was  elsewhere 
perforated  by  two  bullets. 

It  was  also  discovered  that  a  horse  was  missing  from  the 
pasture,  and  that  a  saddle  and  bridle  were  gone.  Hence  it  was 
concluded  that  Meyers,  who  was  nowhere  to  be  found,  had  stolen 
these  articles  and  disappeared  on  horseback. 

With  this  theory  fixed  in  his  mind.  Gen.  Cook  returned  to 
Denver,  and  prepared  to  take  the  coach  out  that  evening  in  pur- 
suit of  his  man — for,  be  it  known,  the  Rio  Grande  railroad  was 
in  those  days  a  railroad  on  paper  only,  and  travel  to  the  south- 
ward was  done  either  in  private  conveyances  or  on  the  stage 
coaches. 

Gen.  Cook  went  out  alone,  having  confidence  in  his  ability 
to  cope  with  Meyers,  should  he  overtake  him,  notwithstanding 
that  individual  was  a  young  man  weighing  two  hundred  pounds, 
and  a  desperado,  as  had  been  shown  by  his  recent  acts.  He,  of 
course,  went  well  armed,  carrying  a  pair  of  revolvers  and  a  der- 
ringer with  him,  for  he  felt  that  the  chances  were  that  the  man 
would  make  a  desperate  fight  if  he  should  not  succeed  in  get- 
ting the  drop  on  him  in  making  the  arrest.  He  argued  that  the 
man  who  would  shoot  down  a  defenseless  man  and  woman,  as 
Meyers  had  done,  must  expect  to  be  pursued;  that  he  must  ex- 
pect to  be  severely  dealt  with  if  caught,  and  that  for  these  rea- 
sons he  would  resist  to  the  last  if  come  up  with  by  an  officer. 

The  trip  south  was  almost  devoid  of  incident.  The  fugitive 
had  a  day's  start  of  the  officer,  but  the  latter  had  not  been  long 
on  the  road  before  he  began  to  pick  up  information  as  to  the 
course  the  man  had  taken.  Several  persons  had  seen  him  riding 
along,  and  readily  recognized  him  from  the  description  which 
Cook  furnished. 

The  tragedy  had  occurred  on  Thursday  night,  Meyers  leav- 
ing on  Friday  morning  and  Gen.  Cook  following  Saturday  morn- 
ing.    Saturday  night  about  11  o'clock  Cook  ended  his  pursuit, 


A  FARM  HAND'S  AWFUL  CRIME.  263 

and  had  the  satisfaction  of  having  his  theory  as  to  the  course 
the  murderer  had  taken  verified  bv  suddenly  overtaking  him  at 
a  place  called  Woodbury's,  twenty-five  miles  north  of  Pueblo, 
where  the  fellow  was  waiting  to  take  the  same  coach  that  Cook 
came  in  on,  in  pursuance  of  his  journey.  The  capture  was  an 
easy  one,  although  Cook  had  prepared  for  a  death  struggle, 
which  might  have  ensued  if  Meyers  had  not  been  ''caught  nap- 
ping." Previous  to  leaving  he  had  telegraphed  to  parties  at 
Colorado  City  and  Pueblo  to  be  on  the  alert  for  the  escaping 
murderer.  It  was  known  that  Meyers  had  chosen  that  route. 
The  officer  in  question  felt  virtually  assured  of  being  able  to 
overtake  his  man.  Meyers  had  stopped  at  Woodbury's,  and  was 
awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  coach  from  Denver.  He  was  dis- 
covered to  be  partially  intoxicated.  News  of  the  murder  had 
preceded  him;  he  was  immediately  suspected;  and  when  he  re- 
tired, to  sleep  until  the  arrival  of  the  coach,  the  caps  were  re- 
moved from  his  shotgun  and  he  was  dispossessed  of  his  pistol. 
The  coach  brought  the  sheriff,  and  the  murderer  was  awakened 
by  the  officer  who  was  standing  over  him  with  a  revolver,  and 
to  find  himself  a  prisoner,  instead  of  a  passenger  to  Pueblo. 

The  accommodations  at  Woodbury's  were  insufficient,  and 
there  was  also  some  fear  that  if  the  prisoner  should  be  allow^ed 
to  remain  there  he  might  be  lynched,  as  the  story  of  his  crime 
had  gotten  out.  Hence  Cook  decided  to  go  on  to  Pueblo  and 
to  take  his  prisoner  with  him,  with  the  intention  of  starting 
on  his  return  the  next  morning.  Putting  this  plan  into  execu- 
tion, Meyers  was  tied  with  ropes  and  lifted  into  the  coach,  the 
officer  carrying  a  lighted  candle  that  he  might  keep  a  close 
watch  upon  his  prisoner.  They  had  as  fellow  travelers  a  lady 
and  a  gentleman,  and  it  may  be  easily  imagined  that  the  woman 
did  not  enjoy  the  prospect  of  her  ride.  Her  fears  were,  how- 
ever, assuaged  by  the  assurance  of  Gen.  Cook  that  there  was 
no  danger,  an  assurance  to  which  his  firm  bearing  added  great 
weight  with  her. 

Once  in  the  coach,  but  not  before,  Meyers  demanded  to  know 
why  he  had  been  arrested.  When  told  of  the  charge  that  was 
made  against  him  he  at  first  denied  it.  but  asked  where  Cook 
had  gotten  the  information. 


2(34  ^  FARM  HANDS  AWFUL  CRIME. 

'Trom  the  woman  you  tried  to  kill  at  the  time  you  killed 
Bonacina.'' 

"The  woman!     Ain't  she  dead?" 

"No,  sir." 

''Well,  it's  not  my  fault  if  she  isn't.  She  would  have  been, 
though,  if  my  jjlans  had  not  miscarried." 

"What  were  your  plans?" 

"Why,  to  fire  both  barrels  of  the 'shotgun  into  her  at  once. 
That  would  have  stopped  her  blabbing  tongue.  But  one  of 
them  missed  fire." 

After  this,  Meyers,  without  displaying  the  least  compunc- 
tion of  conscience,  told  the  entire  story  of  the  murder,  claiming 
that  he  And  Bonacina  had  quarreled,  and  that  after  killing  the 
man  he  had  been  so  excited  that  he  did  not  know  what  he  was 
doing,  and  hence  had  made  an  effort  to  finish  Mrs.  Newton  as 
well. 

It  was  after  daylight  when  Pueblo  was  reached,  and  the 
return  stage  was  soon  ready  to  start  for  Denver.  Cook  had 
already  been  two  nights  without  rest,  devoting  the  first  to 
searching  for  clues  and  the  second  to  the  journey  and  the  ar- 
rest of  Meyers.  He  was  already  pretty  well  worn  out,  but  he 
did  not  have  time  to  rest.  One  more  day  and  night  of  hard 
work  was  before  him.  There  was  but  one  additional  passenger 
on  the  coach,  Capt.  H.  L.  Thayer.  During  the  night.  Cook  rode 
with  his  derringer  in  his  hand  and  sat  on  his  other  pistols  that 
he  might  have  them  ready  for  use  at  a  moment's  notice.  He 
had  been  so  long  without  sleep  that  he  feared  that  he  might 
drop  into  a  nap  at  any  time,  when  he  could  expect  nothing  from 
his  prisoner  less  than  an  effort  to  get  away  and  a  probable 
attack  upon  himself.  But  the  journey  was  devoid  of  more  than 
ordinary  interest,  and  Meyers  was  early  Monday  morning  locked 
up  in  the  Arapahoe  county  jail  to  await  his  trial.  The  capture 
was  speedily  and  well  executed,  for  which  Gen.  Cook  was  gen- 
erally complimented. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

MRS.  NEWTON'S  ASTONISHING  RECOVERY— MEYERS'  TRIAL— A  STUB- 
BORN FIGHT  FOR  HIS  LIFE  IN  THE  COURTS,  AND  BEFORE  THE 
TERRITORIAL  EXECUTIVE— ALL  TO  NO  AVAIL— THE  PRISONER 
SENTENCED  TO  DEATH— COOL  CONDUCT  UNDER  THE  SHADOW 
OF  THE  GALLOWS— A  FULL  DYING  CONFESSION— THE  EXECUTION. 

Mrs.  Newton  rapidly  recovered  from  her  wounds,  much  to 
the  astonishment  of  her  physicians  and  of  herself,  and  by  the 
time  that  the  trial  of  Meyers  for  the  murder  of  her  brother  came 
on  she  was  entirely  well.  Meyers  was  indicted  for  murder  by 
the  grand  jury  which  sat  subsequent  to  his  arrest,  and  on  the 
5th,  ath  and  7th  of  February,  1872,  he  stood  his  first  trial.  The 
jury  were  out  about  three  hours,  when  they  returned  a  verdict 
that  the  prisoner  was  guilty  of  murder  and  that  the  killing  was 
premeditated.  A  motion  was  at  once  made  for  a  new  trial,  and 
it  was  granted  by  Judge  Wells,  before  whom  he  had  been  tried. 
The  second  trial  was  set  for  the  April  term,  1872,  but  a  con- 
tinuance was  granted  on  account  of  the  absence  of  important 
witnesses.  The  case  came  up  for  second  trial  on  Monday,  Oc- 
tober 21,  1872,  and  on  Wednesday,  October  23,  a  verdict  of  mur- 
der in  the  first  degree  was  returned.  In  all  respects  the  trial 
was  a  fair  one  and  it  was  conducted  with  marked  ability  on 
both  sides. 

On  the  30th  of  December,  1872,  Meyers  was  brought  into 
court,  before  Judge  Wells,  for  sentence.  When  asked  by  the 
court  whether  he  had  anything  to  say  why  sentence  of  death 
should  not  be  passed  upon  him,  he  replied  that  he  had  not,  and 
the  court  then  delivered  the  sentence,  which  was  that  Meyers 
should  be  hanged  on  the  24th  day  of  January  succeeding.  The 
scene  in  the  court  room  when  the  sentence  was  pronounced  was 
very  affecting,  the  judge  and  members  of  the  bar  who  were 
present  betraying  visible  signs  of  agitation.  But  Meyers  pre- 
served the  same  air  of  indifference  which  had  been  so  frequently 
remarked  during  the  progress  of  his  two  trials.     Although  his 


2QQ  A  FARM  HAND'S  AWFUL  CRIME. 

appearance  was  haggard,  and  his  pale  countenance  and  emaciated 
frame  showed  signs  of  internal  suffering,  yet  he  kept  up  a  brave 
front  and  appeared  to  be  undaunted  by  the  terrible  doom  which 
stared  him  in  the  face. 

Every  effort  was  made  by  the  counsel  and  friends  of  the 
man,  of  whom,  considering  the  heinous  nature  of  his  crime,  he 
developed  a  surprising  number,  to  obtain  a  writ  of  error  from 
the  supreme  court,  but  all  failed;  and  then  the  friends  turned 
their  attention  to  the  territorial  executive.  Gov.  McCook  was 
at  that  time  governor  of  Colorado,  but  was  absent,  and  Gen. 
Frank  Hall,  being  territorial  secretary,  was  acting  as  governor. 
Upon  him,  therefore,  devolved  the  responsibility  of  deciding  upon 
the  question  of  immediate  death  or  prolonged  life  for  Theodore 
Meyers.  The  most  touching  overtures  were  made  to  him,  but 
he  remained  as  firm  as  a  granite  wall,  saying  that  the  courts 
had  passed  upon  the  matter,  and  that  he  could  not  interpose 
except  upon  the  recommendation  of  Judge  Wells,  who  refused 
to  take  any  action  in  the  matter. 

Thus  th«  awful  day  approached,  and  the  murderer's  fate 
drew  nearer  and  nearer  to  him.  At  last  the  day  before  that 
set  for  the  execution  arrived.  Meyers  proved  equal  to  every 
emergency.  During  his  stay  in  jail  he  maintained  a  stolid  in-' 
difference  as  to  his  fate.  He  chatted  pleasantly  with  all  who 
came  to  visit  him  in  his  unfortunate  condition,  and  rested  soundly 
and  ate  his  meals  regularly.  Beyond  this  he  amused  himself  as 
best  he  could  reading  and  smoking.  Throughout  the  day  preced- 
ing the  hanging  he  did  not  change  in  his  demeanor.  No  burden 
appeared  to  rest  upon  his  soul.  He  passively  regretted  the  deed, 
when  reminded  of  its  great  enormity,  but  it  seemed  to  him  that 
it  would  be  the  passport  to  a  better  world,  which  he  expected 
soon  to  reach.  He  calmly  smoked  a  cigar  and  read  his  German 
prayer  book.  Now  and  then  he  would  speak  to  a  few  persons 
who  were  allowed  to  approach  his  cell.  He  conversed  freely  on 
the  circumstances  attending  the  crime,  and  then  referring  to  the 
close  approach  of  death,  said:  "I  have  made  my  peace  with 
ray  Maker,  and  I  die  happy  in  the  Catholic  faith,  feeling  that  I 
will  soon  be  in  heaven."  Being  questioned  as  to  whether  he  did 
not  feel  the  pangs  of  remorse,  he  said:     ''Oh,  yes,  a  little;  but 


A  FARM  HAND'S  AWFUL  CRIME.  267 

then  there  is  no  use  crying  over  spilt  milk — the  thing  is  to 
be,  and  it  can't  be  helped.  I've  made  up  my  mind  to  it,  and  am 
satisfied."'  To  a  visitor  who  was  moved  to  tears,  he  said:  "Don't 
feel  bad  about  it,  it  can  not  be  helped;  I  have  no  fear  of  the 
gallows;  there  is  a  better  world  ahead,  and  I  think  I'll  reach 
it."  To  Sheriff  Cook  he  said:  "I  will  go  to  the  gallows  as  you 
want  me  to;  there's  no  use,  though,  getting  a  wagon,  for  I 
would  just  as  leave  walk  as  ride." 

During  the  evening  previous  to  the  execution,  Meyers  made 
a  confession  to  Gen.  Cook  which  supplied  many  details  there- 
tofore lacking  to  make  the  story  complete.  He  stated  that  he 
had  been  born  in  Baden,  Germany,  in  1845;  that  he  had  come 
to  America  with  his  mother  and  two  sisters  in  1859;  going  to 
the  war  in  1861,  and  arriving  in  Pueblo,  Colo.,  in  1867.  As  to 
the  events  which  occurred  on  the  night  of  the  murder  and  those 
preceding  and  following,  he  said: 

''On  Sunday,  the  6th  of  August,  Bonacina  went  to  Denver 
after  Mrs.  Newton,  and  she  came  back  that  evening.  As  he 
went  to  town  he  asked  me  to  lend  him  |;25,  telling  me  he  would 
return  it  when  he  returned.  I  loaned  him  the  |25.  When  he 
asked  me  for  the  money  he  inquired  if  I  had  plenty  of  ammuni- 
tion for  the  shotgun,  rifle  and  revolver.  I  told  him  I  had  some 
ammunition,  and  to  suit  himself  about  getting  more.  He  brought 
back  some  caps,  and,  I  think,  powder.  Before  he  went  to  town 
he  loaded  his  rifle  with  some  buckshot  I  had,  and,  I  think,  his 
revolver,  also,  with  the  same.  He  said  he  expected  the  neigh- 
bors would  come  around  some  night  and  burn  the  stacks,  and 

he  would  shoot  the  first  s of  a  b that  came  near  there 

after  dark.  When  Mrs.  Newton  came  back  from  Denver,  she 
told  Bonacina  that  she  would  give  a  suit  of  clothes  worth  |100 
to  the  one  w^ho  would  kill  the  first  man  who  came  and  attempted 
to  bum  the  grain.  She  asked  Bonacina  at  the  same  time  if  he 
knew  where  her  derringer  was,  and  he  said  it  was  in  the  trunk. 
I  did  not  like  to  stav  there  anv  longer,  as  he  was  a  man  who 
swore,  and  I  did  not  like  his  ways.  A  couple  of  days  before 
this  we  had  a  quarrel  over  his  treatment  of  horses,  while  load- 
ing grain,  but  no  blows  were  passed.  Between  8  and  9  o'clock  on 
Thursday  night,  August  10,  Bonacina  told  me  to  go  out  to  the 


2(38  A  FARM  HAND'S  AWFUL  CRIME. 

stacks,  or  the  men  might  come  while  we  were  there  in  the  house. 
We  quit  playing  cards,  and  I  went  out  there.  In  about  fifteen 
minutes  he  came  out  to  where  I  was.  We  made  our  beds  under 
the  stacks  then,  and  I  asked  him  for  the  125  I  had  let  him 
have  on  the  preceding  Sunday;  also  told  him  I  did  not  want 
to  work  for  him  any  longer.  He  asked  my  reasons  for  leaving, 
but  I  told  him  I  did  not  want  to  tell  him.  He  then  told  me 
he  didn't  want  me  to  leave  until  the  grain  was  threshed  and 
other  work  done.  About  an  hour  after  we  went  to  the  stacks 
I  told  him  again  I  wanted  the  money,  as  I  desired  to  leave  the 

next  day.    Bonacina  said:    'You  d d  lousy  s or  a  b -, 

I  w^on't  pay  it,  but  I'll  pay  you  now.'  At  the  same  time  he 
reached  over  towards  his  weapon,  the  rifle  lying  by  his  side  and 
his  revolver  under  his  head.  I  then  drew  my  pistol,  which  was 
lying  by  my  side  loose,  and  shot  him,  or  shot  at  him,  and  he 
fell  back  saying  something  I  could  not  understand.  I  then  shot 
at  him  again  with  my  revolver;  did  not  shoot  the  shotgun,  which 
was  under  my  head.  Bonacina  was  about  six  feet  from  me 
when  I  shot.  I  am  not  positive  where  either  bullet  hit  him.  I 
was  excited,  and  shot  the  second  time  because  I  thought  he  was 
not  dead.    I  did  not  know  w^hat  I  was  doing. 

''I  took  my  shotgun  and  went  to  the  house,  and  called  Mrs. 
Newton  by  the  name  of  Belle.  I  went  there  with  the  determina- 
tion of  killing  her,  as  I  was  afraid  she  would  give  the  alarm, 
and  cause  mj^  capture  before  I  could  get  away.  She  was  at 
the  window^  at  first,  and  upon  my  calling  came  outside  the  door. 
I  told  her,  'they  were  around,'  meaning  the  men  who  had  at- 
tempted to  burn  the  stack.  She  asked:  'Where  are  they?'  I 
said:  'They  are  around,  and  George  (Bonacina)  is  running  after 
them.'  My  shotgun  was  cocked  and  at  a  make-ready  position. 
I  was  about  fifteen  feet  from  her  at  the  time.  I  pulled  the 
trigger  and  fired,  and  she  said  'Oh!'  and  went  back  into  the 
house.  I  then  went  to  the  barn,  back  of  the  house,  and  remained 
there  about  ten  minutes,  doing  nothing,  but  very  much  fright- 
ened. Afterwards  T  walked  back  to  the  front  window  of  the 
house,  and  heard  Mrs.  Newton  walking  inside.  I  could  see  her 
moving  in  there  as  there  was  a  light  in  the  room.  Then  I  went 
back  to  the  stack  and  rolled  Bonacina  up  in  the  buffalo  robes 


A  FARM  HAND'S  AWFUL  CRIME,  269 

and  threw  his  rifle  into  the  straw.  I  think  the  rifle  was  full 
cocked,  but  can  not  positively  state.  I  then  moved  my  bed  to 
a  diagonal  position  against  his,  and  took  sheaves  of  oats  and 
covered  his  body.  Then  1  went  to  bed  and  slept  only  a  little 
that  night.  After  daybreak  I  heard  what  I  thought  was  a 
wagon  passing,  and  at  the  same  time  I  saw  Mrs.  Newton  come 
out  of  the  house.  She  walked  to  the  bridge  before  she  cried 
to  the  man  to  stop.  He  did  not  stop.  She  kept  on,  and  looked 
towards  the  stack,  and  went  towards  Lyman's.  When  she  got 
away  I  went  down  into  the  brush  and  went  up  to  the  top  of 
the  hill.  I  did  not  know  what  I  was  doing.  I  remained  there 
a  short  time,  Avhen  I  saw  Lyman  coming  towards  the  place  with 
a  span  of  horses  and  no  wagon.  He  went  first  into  the  barn, 
and  then  to  the  stacks,  hitched  up  Mrs.  Newton's  wagon  and 
drove  back  home.  I  then  went  back  to  Mrs.  Newton's  house, 
got  something  to  eat,  and  took  a  bottle  of  whisky.  Then  I  went 
down  into  a  field  the  other  side  of  Lyman's  to  get  a  horse,  and 
got  the  horse,  took  him  to  the  house,  saddled  him  and  started 
south.  This  was  about  9  o'clock.  I  had  a  shotgun,  a  revolver, 
some  whisky  and  a  loaf  of  bread.  I  struck  the  road  and  went 
over  the  Divide. 

"I  was  so  excited  I  did  not  know  what  I  was  doing.  I 
thought  at  first  I  would  go  to  Canon  City  and  then  into  the 
mountains.  On  second  thought  I  concluded  to  go  to  Pueblo. 
Had  no  thought  of  being  captured,  but  if  anybody  had  attempted 
to  take  me  prisoner  I  should  have  fought.  I  traveled  the  day 
I  left  the  ranch  to  a  point  about  two  miles  south  of  Sloan's  mill; 
the  next  day  I  continued  the  journey  and  got  to  Woodbury's, 
when  I  was  captured  that  night.  While  at  the  foot  of  the  Divide 
I  sold  the  horse  to  Mr.  Wilson  for  |75,  and  continued  to  Wood- 
bury's afoot.  If  1  had  retained  my  senses  and  not  drunk  any 
liquor,  I  wouldn't  have  been  captured  so  easily." 

This  confession  of  the  condemned  man  was  delivered  in  a 
straightforward  and  plain  manner.  During  its  delivery  Meyers 
lighted  fresh  cigars  occasionally  and  assumed  a  pleasing  ex- 
pression, now  and  then  interlarding  the  recital  with  quiet  and 
dry  jokes.  Soon  afterwards  Judge  Harrison,  of  his  counsel,  was 
admitted,  and  the  prisoner  gave  way,  the  only  time  at  which 


270  ^  FARM  HAND'S  AWFUL  CRIME. 

he  manifested  any  great  concern.  This  interview  was  truly  af- 
fecting, and  was  the  occasion  of  a  copious  shedding  of  tears. 
Meyers  spoke  feelingly,  even  path  etically,  of  his  aged  mother 
and  his  noble  sisters,  and  handed  the  judge  a  lock  of  hair  which 
he  desired  should  be  enclosed  to  them,  accompanying  a  message 
of  love  to  all. 

The  next  morning,  a  little  before  the  fatal  hour,  Sheriff 
Cook,  accompanied  by  the  officers  under  him,  and  one  or  two 
friends,  stepped  to  the  door  of  the  prisoner's  cell.  He  arose 
from  his  mattress,  extended  his  hand,  and  assured  him  that  he 
felt  comfortable  and  resigned. 

Sheriff  Cook  then  spoke  as  follows: 

"Mr.  Meyers,  by  the  law,  the  painful  duty  of  carrying  into 
execution  the  sentence  of  the  court  passed  upon  you  is  imposed 
upon  me.  That  sentence  is  in  the  following  document,  which 
I  will  read." 

The  sheriff  then  read  the  death  warrant  to  the  doomed  man. 

The  procession  started  from  the  jail,  then  on  Larimer  street 
near  the  Cherry  creek  bridge,  at  precisely  2  o'clock.  The  pris- 
oner, before  leaving  the  inside,  bade  the  remaining  inmates  an 
affectionate  and  touching  farewell,  and  then  stepped  firmly  upon 
the  sidewalk,  leaving  tearful  eyes  and  aching  hearts  behind.  He 
was  dressed  in  a  suit  of  black,  given  him  by  a  philanthropic 
citizen,  and  his  feet  free  from  the  chafing  shackles.  He  entered 
a  carriage — Sheriff  Cook  and  Deputy  Smith  in  advance,  then 
the  prisoner,  and  in  the  rear  the  two  clergymen,  Fathers  Rob- 
inson and  Borg.  The  carriage  moved  toward  the  scaffold,  near 
the  mouth  of  Cherry  creek,  on  the  West  Side,  followed  by  the 
Denver  Scouts  on  foot.  In  the  neighborhood  there  was,  of 
course,  considerable  excitement.  Men  and  boys,  and  even 
women,  lined  the  sidewalks  and  clambered  to  observation  points. 
The  upper  windows  and  roofs  of  many  of  the  buildings  were 
crowded  with  spectators. 

The  carriage  containing  the  prisoner,  together  with  the 
officers  and  ministers,  was  driven  to  the  foot  of  the  scaffold.  The 
prisoner  walked  firmly  on  to  the  platform,  placed  himself  be- 
neath the  rope,  and  facing  to  the  east,  the  officers  and  ministers 
standing  around  him.     One  of  the  fathers  offered  up  a  fervent 


A  FARM  HANDS  AWFUL  CRIME.  273. 

prayer,  though  in  a  voice  scarcely  audible  to  the  crowd,  in  which 
he  implored  God  to  give  the  dying  man  strength  to  pass  through 
the  trying  ordeal,  and  to  receive  his  soul  as  it  escaped  into  the 
shadow  of  death. 

Meyers  met  his  doom  with  an  exhibition  of  nerve  the  most 
extraordinary.  Once  only,  and  then  for  but  a  moment,  did  he 
change  countenance.  The  place  had  no  terrors  for  him.  Upon 
being  asked  b^'  the  sheriff  if  he  desired  to  say  anything,  he  re- 
plied, seeming  to  address  the  crowd: 

"Farewell,  men!    I'm  going  to  another  world!" 

The  noose  had  been  adjusted.  The  black  cap  was  pulled 
down  over  his  eyes.  Almost  before  any  of  the  lookers-on  were 
aware  of  it  the  fatal  spring  had  been  touched,  and  the  body  of 
Meyers  was  dangling  in  the  air,  and  human  justice,  so  far  as 
he  was  concerned,  was  satisfied.  The  body  had  dropped  about 
four  feet.  There  were  a  few  convulsive  twitches,  the  body  spun 
around  five  or  six  times,  and  all  was  still.  The  trap  was  sprung 
at  twenty  minutes  past  2  o'clock.  Four  minutes  after  the  pulse 
stood  at  144;  five  minutes  after  it  had  been  reduced  to  72,  and 
in  six  minutes  life  was  extinct,  as  pronounced  by  Drs.  Manx 
and  Heimbarger.  The  body  was  allowed  to  hang  thirty  minutes, 
and  was  then  taken  down  and  placed  in  the  coffin,  and  taken 
to  the  city  cemetery  for  interment,  alongside  of  Duggan,  Frank- 
lin and  Griswold. 

Mrs.  Newton  soon  afterwards  left  Denver  completely  re- 
stored to  health.  It  was  announced  at  the  time  of  her  leaving 
that  she  had  been  discovered  to  be  one  of  the  heirs  to  the 
Stewart  estate  in  England,  and  that  she  had  inherited  a  fortune 
of  £60,000  sterling.  The  trial  exculpated  her  husband,  Mr. 
Freidenthal,  from  all  blame,  and  also  went  far  towards  estab- 
lishing the  fact  that  Bonacina  was  the  woman's  brother,  as  wa» 
claimed. 


A  HALF-MILLION-DOLLAll  ROBBER. 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

A  COAL-OIL  JOHNNY  LOSES  FIVE  HUNDRED  THOUSAND  DOLLARS  IN 
GREENBACKS  IN  PETROLEUM  CENTRE,  PENNSYLVANIA— HIS  SAFE 
BLOWN  OPEN  WHILE  HE  IS  AT  SUPPER  AND  THE  MONEY  CAR- 
RIED AWAY— JAMES  SAEGER,  THE  PRINCIPAL  "BLOWER,"  BEATS 
HIS  COMPANIONS  AND  SKIPS  THE  CQUNTRY— REWARD  OF  ONE 
HUNDRED  THOUSAND  DOLLARS  OFFERED— DETECTIVES  FLOCK 
IN  FROM  ALL  QUARTERS— AFTER  YEARS  OF  WANDERING,  SAEGER 
TURNS  UP  IN  DENVER. 

Altlioiigh  as  a  rule  Gen.  Cook's  experience  with  criminals 
has  been  with  the  class  who  kill,  he  has  also  had  a  great  deal 
to  do  with  burglars  and  thieves,  and  others  of  the  less  demon- 
strative classes.  One  of  the  most  notable  cases  of  this  latter 
class  with  which  he  has  been  identified  was  that  of  James  Saeger, 
who  was  engaged  in  the  robbery  of  a  safe  in  Pennsylvania  in 
1868,  from  which  half  a  million  dollars'  worth  of  greenbacks 
were  taken.  The  loser  by  the  robbery  was  an  old  German  named 
Bennehoff,  who  resided  at  Petroleum  Centre,  in  Venango 
county.  Pa.,  and  whose  wealth  had  been  accumulated  with 
rapidity  through  the  magic  instrumentality  of  petroleum.  He 
had,  previous  to  the  discoveries  of  oil  in  the  Keystone  state, 
lived  there  a  quiet  and  frugal  life,  residing  in  a  plain  country 
house  with  his  family  around  him.  When  his  good  fortune  came 
upon  him  he  did  not  change  his  mode  of  life,  but  continued  in 
the  same  house,  the  only  innovation  being  the  addition  of  a  small 
iron  safe,  which  was  deposited  in  a  hallway  in  the  dwelling. 
This  piece  of  furniture  was,  compared  to  others  of  its  kind,  a 
fragile  thing,  but  old  Bennehoff  considered  it  a  secure  depository 
for  his  fast  accumulating  wealth.  He  grew  rich  with  wonder- 
ful rapidity,  as  those  were  the  days  of  the  coal  oil  boom.  His 
wells  were  numerous  and  apparently  inexhaustible,  and  the 
petroleum  was  worth  a  great  deal  more  then  than  it  ever  has 


A  HALF-MILLION-DOLLAR  ROBBER.  275 

been  since.  He  was  in  the  habit  of  carrying  his  money  home 
loose  in  his  pockets  every  evening  and  pitching  it  carelessly  into 
his  little  iron  safe,  going  about  his  business  feeling  assured  that 
his  treasure  was  secure. 

Naturally  enough  the  facts  of  his  great  wealth  and  his  care- 
less disposition  of  it  began  to  be  noised  abroad,  and  the  cupidity 
of  some  of  his  neighbors  became  sorely  tempted.  Among  these 
was  James  Saeger,  who  lived  at  Saegerstown,  near  Meadville, 
and  no  great  distance  from  Venango.  Up  to  this  time  Saeger 
had  borne  an  enviable  reputation.  He  was  a  member  of  an  old 
and  well  known  family,  in  whose  honor  the  town  at  which  he 
resided  was  named.  He  was  at  that  time  a  man  of  middle  life, 
of  splendid  personal  appearance,  had  long  been  engaged  in  mer- 
cantile pursuits  and  was  the  head  of  an  interesting  family.  Yet 
the  temptation  of  Bennehoflf's  weak  safe  was  too  much  for  him. 
It  outweighed  all  considerations  of  good  name  and  of  family 
ties.  He  did  not,  of  course,  undertake  the  robbery  alone,  but 
was  assisted  by  four  other  men  of  his  locality,  all  of  whom 
masked  and  boldly  entered  the  house  of  Bennehoff  while  the 
family  were  at  supper,  and  at  the  muzzle  of  their  pistols  com- 
pelled Bennehoff  to  deliver  up  the  ke^'  to  one  of  his  safes,  in 
which  he  kept  an  enormous  sum  of  money.  This  was  done,  and 
the  robbers  secured  their  bootv,  over  half  a  million  dollars  in 
United  States  notes,  which  they  emptied  into  a  pillow  case  and 
made  good  their  escape.  Two  of  the  robbers  were  afterwards 
arrested  and  convicted,  one  getting  seven  and  the  other  fifteen 
years  in  the  Pennsylvania  state  prison.  Two  others  have  never 
been  heard  from,  while  the  fifth,  Saeger,  has  been  a  fugitive 
from  justice  ever  since,  followed  by  detectives  nearly  into  every 
corner  of  the  world,  until  his  arrest  in  Denver,  since  which  time, 
for  reasons  which  will  appear,  he  has  been  let  alone.  It  ap- 
pears that  after  the  robbery  the  money  was  secreted  for  two 
days,  it  being  the  understanding  amongst  the  robbers  that  they 
were  to  meet  at  a  specified  time  and  "whack  up." 

Once  entered  upon  his  downward  course,  Saeger  moved  with 
great  celerity.  He  even  neglected  to  observe  the  regulations 
which  have  led  the  world  to  adopt  the  general  conclusion  that 
there  is  honor  among  thieves,  but  before  the  time  for  the  meet- 


276  ^  HALF-MILLION-DOLLAIl  ROBBER. 

ing  of  the  robbers  and  their  "divvy"  had  come  around,  Saeger 
stole  the  whole  amount  from  the  hiding  place  and  jumped  the 
country,  leaving  his  companions  with  no  money  and  the  guilt 
of  being  parties  to  the  burglary,  and  also  deserting  his  family- 
It  was  one  of  the  most  remarkable  cases  on  record,  and,  at  the 
time,  created  much  excitement  amongst  the  people  of  that  sec- 
tion, and  was  heralded  through  the  press  of  the  land. 

Old  Bennehoff  was  almost  wild  when  he  came  to  fully  realize 
his  loss.  He  was  still  wealthy,  notwithstanding  |500,000  had 
been  stolen  from  him,  and  he  announced  his  determination  to 
capture  the  thieves  at  any  cost.  He  offered  first  a  reward  of 
15,000,  then  of  |10,000,  then  $25,000;  then  capped  the  climax  by 
offering  |100,000  for  the  taking  of  Saeger,  when  it  was  dis- 
covered that  he  had  all  the  lost  money,  and  that  he  seemed  in 
a  way  to  effectually  evade  the  officers,  unless  Bennehoff  should 
make  it  an  object  to  them  to  search  "the  world  over  for  him," 
as  he  stated  it  to  be  his  desire  that  they  should  do. 

As  a  consequence,  detectives  flocked  to  the  humble  home  of 
this  rich  man  to  obtain  clues  for  the  purpose  of  working  up 
the  case.  The}'  came  from  all  sections  of  the  Union — from  New 
York,  Chicago,  Philadelphia,  Pittsburg  and  numerous  other 
places.  In  fact,  almost  the  entire  detective  skill  of  the  Union 
was  concentrated  upon  the  case.  They  searched  the  country  for 
their  man  in  its  every  nook  and  cranny.  Doubtless  as  much 
monej'  was  spent  in  the  aggregate  in  making  the  search  as  was 
offered  in  the  reward. 

Among  those  who  devoted  several  months'  time  to  the  case 
was  Capt.  Hage,  chief*  of  the  detective  force  of  Pittsburg,  who, 
after  visiting  Venango  and  taking  elaborate  notes,  conceived 
the  theory  that  Saeger  had  come  to  Colorado  soon  after  the  rob- 
bery, and  he  came  to  Denver  himself,  crossing  the  plains  on  a 
stage  coach,  making  this  city  his  headquarters  while  he  scoured 
the  country  round  about.  But  his  efforts  were  of  no  avail. 
After  spending  much  time  and  considerable  money  he  returned 
to  Pittsburg.  During  his  stay  here  Capt.  Hage  conferred  fre- 
quently with  Chief  Cook,  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  Association, 
who  cooperated  with  him.     He  furnislied  the  Denver  detective 


A  HALF-MILLION-DOLLAR  ROBBER.  277 

with  complete  information  as  to  the  robbery,  and  also  left  a 
description  of  Saeger. 

Bennehoff  never  gave  any  notice  of  having  withdrawn  the 
reward,  and  Cook  determined  to  keep  a  lookout  for  the  bold 
robber,  and  did  so  for  years.  At  last,  after  six  years  of  waiting, 
his  patience  was  rewarded  by  getting  a  view  of  the  evasive  and 
long-sought-for  safe  blower. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

SAEGER  APPEARS  IN  DENVER  UNDER  AN  ASSUMED  NAME— HE  MEETS 
AN  OLD  FRIEND  IN  THE  PERSON  OF  GUS  POTTER,  TO  WHOM 
HE  MAKES  A  FULL  CONFESSION— HE  FALLS  INTO  A  LITTLE  TRAP 
SET  BY  GEN.  COOK  AND  IS  CAPTURED  BEFORE  HE  KNOWS  IT— 
SAEGER  TELLS  THE  STORY  OF  HIS  WANDERINGS— BENNEHOFF 
GOES  BACK  ON  THE  REWARD  AND  SAEGER   ESCAPES. 

Gen.  Cook  had  learned  that  Mr.  Gus  Potter  and  his  wife, 
who  then,  as  they  do  now.  kept  a  restaurant  on  Blake  street, 
had  known  Saeger  personally  before  coming  to  Colorado.  He 
naturally  concluded  that  if  Saeger  should  come  to  Denver  he 
would  be  found  at  Potter's  place.  Hence  he  decided  to 
keep  an  eye  on  this  establishment.  One  day.  in  passing  the 
Potter  place,  he  saw  a  man  walk  out — tall,  dark-haired,  dark- 
complexioned  and  fine-looking,  answering,  in  fact,  the  descrip- 
tion of  Saeger  to  the  letter.  He  allowed  the  stranger  to  pass 
on  unmolested,  but  when  he  had  disappeared  sought  Mr.  Potter, 
and  to  his  great  delight  learned  that  his  eyes  had  not  deceived 
him  and  that  his  inference  had  been  correct.  Cook  virtually  had 
his  man.  and  was  in  a  fair  way  to  secure  a  prize  for  which  his 
entire  profession  had  been  contending. 

Gen.  Cook  first  caught  sight  of  his  man  June  15,  1874:.  and 
he  soon  learned  that  this  was  the  second  visit  which  Saeger  had 
paid  to  Potter's  place,  having  come  in  first  on  the  day  preceding. 
Mr.  Potter  told  the  detective  all  he  knew  about  Saeger,  who  had 
adopted  the  alias  of  Thomas  L.  Magee.  and  related  the  fellow's 
story  as  he  had  received  it.  Saeger  had  stated  that  he  had  come 
to  Denver  with  a  large  herd  of  cattle  and  a  force  of  thirty 
herders.  The  cattle  were  halted  about  eight  miles  distant  from 
Denver,  up  Cherry  creek,  and  Magee  came  to  town  to  transact 
some  business.  While  here  he  stepped  into  Potters  restaurant 
to  get  some  oysters.  He  had  no  idea  thathe  was  anywhere  near 
people  who  knew  hiDi,  not  being  acquainted  with  the  locality. 


A  HALF-MILLION-DOLLAR  ROBBER.  279 

Wliile  partaking  of  his  meal,  Mrs.  Potter,  happening  to  pass 
through  the  dining  room,  heard  Magee  speak,  and  she  at  once 
noticed  a  familiar  tone  in  his  voice.  Taking  a  keen  look  at  the 
man.  she  at  once  discovered  that  it  was  James  Saeger.  whom 
she  had  not  seen  for  vears,  or  since  she  was  a  little  girl,  bnt 
whose  features  had  made  such  an  impression  upon  her  memory 
as  to  remain  there  indelible.  Mrs.  Potter  accosted  him  with 
••How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Saeger?"  whereupon  he  turned  instantly, 
as  though  a  voice  had  called  him  from  another  land,  and  an- 
swered her.  So  completely  overcome  was  he — not  knowing  at 
first  his  interrogator — that  he  confessed  his  identity  and  engaged 
in  conversation.  Mr.  Potter  and  his  wife  and  Saeger  then  spent 
several  hours  together  in  conversation.  He  was  also  recognized 
at  once  by  Mr.  Potter,  when  called  in.  for  he  had.  many  years 
ago.  adopted  Potter  as  his  son.  in  Baegerstown.  He  told  Potter 
that  he  was  now  in  the  Texas  cattle  trade,  and  was  the  owner 
of  between  30.000  and  40,000  head  in  that  state:  also,  that  he 
had  several  herds  on  the  road  between  Texas  and  Colorado.  He 
returned  to  his  herd  near  the  city  that  night,  and  came  to  town 
a^ain  the  next  dav.  in  the  meantime  informing  Potter  that  he 
desired  to  make  him  his  attorney  for  the  transfer  of  a  large 
quantity  of  property.  It  was  on  tbe  occasion  of  this  second  visit 
that  Detective  Cook  had  discovered  his  man.  Potter  knew  all 
the  particulars  of  the  Bennehoff  robbery,  and  Saegers  complicity 
in  the  affair,  but  had  been  ignorant  of  his  whereabouts  until  the 
strange  incident  occurred  which  brought  the  fugitive  into  his 
restaurant  for  a  dish  of  oysters.  Knowing  that  Detective  Cook 
had  been  advised,  several  years  before,  of  the  occurrence,  and 
had  a  full  description  of  the  man.  and  as  Saeger  had  played  a 
dirty  trick  on  his  (Potters)  uncle  in  Saegerstown.  by  which  that 
relative  had  to  suffer  the  penalty  of  the  law.  Potter  made  no 
effort  to  screen  the  man.  and  entered  into  a  plan  to  assist  in  the 
capture  of  him.  He  induced  his  brother.  Charles  Potter,  to  go 
out  to  Saeger's  camp,  up  Cherry  creek,  and  get  Saeger  to  come 
into  town  on  the  Sunday  following.  This  was  done  because  there 
was  danger  of  Saeger's  getting  wind  of  the  operations  of  the 
detectives,  and  of  his  giving  or  attempting  to  give  them  the 
slip.     Potter  went  to  the  camp,  when  Saeger  was  found  in  a 


2^0  A  HALF-MILLION-DOLLAR  ROBBER. 

genial  mood.     He  partook  freely  of  some  good   spirits   Potter 
had  along,  and  finally,  when  night  was  well  advanced,  and  there 
was  supposed  to  be  little  danger  of  detection,  he  himself  sug- 
gested coming  to  Denver,  and  together  the  couple  came  in.    They 
were  met  promptly  upon  their  arrival  by  Mr.   Cook,   who  ap- 
proached the  fugitive  on  the  street,  and  without  any  ado  made 
him  a  prisoner.     The  fellow^  was  given  no  opportunity  to  make 
any  defense,  and,  seeing  that  he  had  at  last  been  caught  in  a 
trap  from  which  he  could  not,  at  any  rate  not  then,  extricate 
himself,  he  surrendered  with  good  grace  and  went  quietly  to  Jail. 
In  conversation  with  Cook,  Potter  and  others,  after  his  ar- 
rest, Saeger  freely  admitted  that  he  was  the  identical  Bennehoff 
robber,  but  averred  that  had  he  been  armed  the  officer  would 
never  have  taken  him.     It  was  the  first  time,  he  said,  that  he 
had  ever  been  taken  unawares,  although  he  had  been  followed 
and  watched  for  six  years.     He  also  related  somewhat  of  his 
life  since  the  time  of  the  robbery.     After  leaving  Saegerstown 
with  the  money — which  he  had  in  an  old  clothes  bag — he  en- 
gaged as  a  coal  heaver  on  a  steamer  on  the  Ohio  river.     The 
first  stopping  place  was  Pittsburg,  after  which  he  went  to  New 
Orleans,    becoming   a   gambler   further    down   the    Mississippi. 
From  New  Orleans  he  passed  over  to  Cuba.     He  did  not  stay 
there  long,  but  went  to  Mexico,  from  which  country  he  went 
to  Texas.     In  short,  he  had  been  a  wanderer  over  the  face  of 
the  earth,  fleeing  constantly  from  the  detectives  who  he  knew 
were  hounding  him  down,  and  resorting  to  every  possible  means 
of  disguising  himself.    In  Texas  he  found  himself  comparatively 
safe,  and  if  he  had  been  content  to  remain  there,  buried  away 
off  on  the  Llano  Estacado,  as  he  was,  he  might  have  remained 
there  in  safety.     He  had  lost  all  his  money  when  he  went  to 
Texas,  for  he  had  gambled  constantly  and  had  led  a  fast  life, 
and  had  engaged  there  as  a  cowboy,  but  he  w^s  too  shrewd  to 
disclose  this  fact  in  this  interview.     He  preferred  to  have  it 
believed  that  he  was  still  very  wealthy,  and  the  sequel  shows 
that  he  adopted  the  wise  course  in  this  respect.     Saeger  stated 
further  in  the  conversation  that  he  had  been  cornered  several 
times  before,  but  managed  to  get  away  through  the  free  use  of 
money.    The  money,  or  the  bulk  of  it,  which  was  stolen,  he  said, 


A  HALF-MILLION-DOLLAR  ROBBER.  281 

was  placed  where  it  never  could  be  touched.  Saeger  told  Pot- 
ter that  he  had  alwajs  intended  to  repay  BennehofE  in  full, 
trusting  to  speculations  to  realize  money  enough  to  double  his 
pile,  but  that  he  had  had  reverses  and  lost  a  good  deal. 

Saeger  was  also  called  upon  at  the  jail  by  a  Texas  detec- 
tive, who  chanced  at  the  time  to  be  in  Denver,  and  who  knew  all 
the  particulars  in  this  case,  having  been  retained  to  capture 
Saeger  imniediatel3'  after  the  robbery.  He  was  at  the  Benne- 
hoff  house  and  took  notes  of  all  the  circumstances,  and  searched 
for  Saeger  eight  months  without  so  much  as  getting  a  "pointer" 
as  to  his  whereabouts,  and  finally  gave  up  the  chase.  The  gen- 
tleman had  a  talk  with  the  prisoner,  who  confessed  to  him  that 
he  was  the  man  they  had  been  looking  for.  The  Texas  detective, 
although  perhaps  a  slight  bit  jealous,  was  loud  in  his  praise  of 
his  Rocky  Mountain  brother.  For  that  matter,  everj'body  con- 
gratulated and  praised  Gen.  Cook  for  the  good  work  which 
he  had  done.    The  RocJci/  Mountain  Xeics  said: 

"Our  detective  force  has  achieved  a  signal  victory  in  this 
capture.  We  congratulate  Mr.  Cook  on  his  good  luck  in  captur- 
ing the  robber.  It  is  a  great  deal  better  for  people  to  remain 
honest,  or,  if  they  will  commit  crimes,  to  keep  away  from  the 
country  where  Dave  Cook  officiates.  His  eagle  eye  and  insin- 
uating manner  will  spot  and  fool  the  keenest  of  thieves." 

But  what  of  the  |100,000?  the  reader  will  be  anxious  to 
know.  The  result  shows  how  ungrateful  some  people  can  be, 
and  how  great  the  risk  that  detectives  take  in  hunting  down  and 
arresting  wrong-doers.  Bennehotf  was  notified  of  the  arrest  soon 
after  it  was  made,  and  he  sent  his  son,  in  company  with  an 
officer,  forthwith,  to  secure  the  prisoner  and  whatever  of  val- 
uables he  might  have  retained.  When  the  son  came  he  offered 
Gen.  Cook  the  paltry  sum  of  $200  for  his  services.  The  offer 
was  spurned,  and  negotiations  as  to  the  reward  were  then 
broken  off  with  the  young  man,  though  suit  was  begun  to  re- 
cover the  entire  sum  offered.  But  before  papers  could  be  served, 
Bennehoft"  had  stolen  out  of  town.  So  that  part  of  the  transac- 
tion ended.  Having  been  treated  so  shabbily.  Cook  left  Benne- 
hoff  to  conduct  his  business  with  Saeger  as  best  he  could.  The 
young  man  hurried  his  work  through,  fearing  the  suit  and  de- 


232  ^  HALF-MILLION-DOLLAR  ROBBER. 

tention,  and  started  back  to  Pennsylvania  with  notes  from 
Saeger  for  part  of  the  money  which  had  been  stolen,  and  which 
were  secured  by  mortgage  upon  Saeger's  herds  of  cattle — which, 
by  the  way,  it  was  discovered  he  did  not  own — not  a  single 
Texas  steer.  Indeed,  it  was  ascertained  by  Gen.  Cook  soon  after- 
wards, that  Saeger  had  merely  attached  himself  to  a  Texas 
drove  and  had  come  to  Colorado  as  a  herder.  He  had  been 
driven  out  of  Texas  for  his  misdoings  there.  While  in  that 
state,  and  sailing  under  an  alias,  he  had  been  chosen  as  an  in- 
spector of  cattle  at  the  Bed  river  crossing,  and  as  such  used  his 
oflBcial  position  to  aid  a  few  accomplices,  with  whom  he  had 
stolen  1,400  head  of  cattle.  This  fact  became  known  before  the 
stock  was  driven  off,  and  Saeger  only  escaped  Ij^nching  by  hasty 
flight.    This  circumstance  brought  him  to  Colorado. 

Gen,  C,  W.  Wright  was  Saeger's  lawyer,  and  he  was  also 
busy  at  this  time,  and  before  the  town  knew  it,  Saeger  had  been 
released  on  a  writ  of  haheas  corpus,  and  was  far  away  oh  a  horse 
provided  for  his  escape. 

So  far  as  is  known,  the  Pennsylvania  safe  blower  is  still  at 
liberty,  if  he  is  not  dead,  simply  because  a  miserly  old  man  was 
anwilling  to  pay  a  detective  for  his  work.  But  the  capture  will 
go  down  to  the  future  as  one  of  the  neatest  ever  made  by  an 
officer  in  the  West. 


A  UTAH  MURDEKER'S  CAPTURE. 
CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

FRED  WELCOME,  A  FUGITIVE  CRIMINAL  FROM  UTAH,  APPEARS  IN 
CHEYENNE— HE  IS  WANTED  FOR  THE  MURDER  OF  J.  F.  TURNER, 
NEAR  PARK  CITY— THE  VICTIM  LURED  FROM  HOME  THAT  HE 
MAY  BE  KILLED  FOR  REVENGE— THE  BODY  HAULED  IN  A  WAGON 
AND  HIDDEN  AWAY  IN  ECHO  CANON,  WHERE  IT  IS  ACCIDEN- 
TALLY DISCOVERED— PURSUIT  OF  THE  CRIMINALS  BY  TURNER'S 
FATHER, 

Mr.  T.  Jeff  Can*,  for  a  long  time  city  marshal  of  Cheyenne, 
and  for  many  ^ears  past  a  resident  of  that  city,  has  long  been 
one  of  the  most  vigilant  as  well  as  one  of  the  most  successful 
members  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  Detective  Association,  ever 
working  in  perfect  harmony  with  Gen.  Cook. 

On  the  24th  of  July,  1881,  Mr.  Carr  made  an  arrest  in  Chey- 
enne which  resulted  in  the  development  of  the  facts  in  an  unpro- 
voked and  heartless  murder,  which  had  previously  occurred  in 
Utah.  The  man  arrested  was  one  Fred  Welcome,  a  young  man, 
but,  notwithstanding  his  age,  thoroughly  hardened  in  crime.  He 
had  come  to  Cheyenne  about  the  15th  or  16th  of  July  of  the 
year  above  mentioned,  and  had  been  residing  in  that  city,  lead- 
ing a  pretty  gay  life,  for  a  week,  when  Mr.  Carr  received  a  tele- 
gram describing  the  man  and  offering  a  large  reward  for  his 
capture  on  the  charge  of  murdering  J.  F.  Turner,  near  Park 
City,  Utah,  early  in  the  same  month.  On  a  train  which  came 
in  from  the  west  on  the  day  of  the  arrest  was  J.  W.  Turner, 
father  of  the  dead  man  and  sheriff  of  Utah  countv,  Utah,  and 
William  Allison,  sheriff  of  Summit  county,  Utah,  who  were 
tracking  the  murderer,  and  from  them  and  others  afterwards 
the  details  of  the  crime  were  learned. 

It  appears  that  the  elder  Turner,  who  resided  with  his 
family  at  Provo,  Utah,  had  been  sheriff  of  his  countv  for  some 


284  -^  UTAH  MURDERER'S  CAPTURE. 

time  past,  and  that  his  son  had  frequently  been  associated  with 
him  in  bringing  the  guilty  to  justice,  and  among  others  who  had 
been  brought  to  punishment  through  his  instrumentality  was 
this  Fred  Welcome,  a  young  fellow  who  lived  about  town  and 
who  was  never  known  for  any  good  that  he  had  done  to  any 
one.  On  the  contrary,  he  was  considered  as  a  loafer  and  beat, 
and  was  frequently  arrested  for  crimes  of  greater  or  less  mag- 
nitude, and  being  arrested,  was  placed  in  jail.  He  seems  to 
have  held  young  Turner  to  blame  especially  for  one  term  of  his 
imprisonment,  believing  that  Turner,  who  was  cognizant  of  his 
crime,  had  informed  upon  him.  He  laid  this  up  as  a  grudge 
against  the  3'oung  man,  and  theatened  vengeance  upon  him  for 
the  act,  saying  to  one  of  his  fellow  prisoners  while  incarcerated 
in  the  jail:  ''By  G — d,  I'll  kill  him  if  it  is  ten  years  from  now! 
I'll  follow  him  to  his  grave." 

But  nothing  was  thought  of  this  threat  and  others  like  it 
at  the  time  they  were  made.  They  were  considered  as  merely 
the  vaporings  of  an  idle  mind.  However,  they  were  brought  to 
mind  soon  afterwards  in  connection  with  the  horrible  suspicion 
that  young  Turner  had  been  murdered  after  leaving  home  in 
company  with  Welcome,  who  had  been  released  from  jail. 

As  soon  as  he  was  out  of  prison.  Welcome  set  himself  to 
work  to  prevail  upon  the  son  of  his  jailer  to  go  with  him  to  the 
mining  districts  near  Park  City,  saying  that  he  had  a  claim 
there  which  was  rich,  and  agreeing  to  give  half  of  it  to  Turner 
on  condition  that  the  latter  would  go  along  and  take  two  teams 
and  wagons.  The  proposition  was  at  first  declined,  but  after- 
wards, upon  the  urgent  and  repeated  solicitation  of  Welcome 
and  the  constant  reiteration  of  his  assertion  as  to  the  value  of 
the  mine.  Turner  consented  to  go,  and  all  being  in  readiness 
they  started  out  about  the  middle  of  June.  Turner  had  two  good 
wagons  and  two  pairs  of  animals  quite  tempting  to  the  eye  of 
the  lover  of  horseflesh.  The  wagons  were  also  well  laden  with 
food  for  both  man  and  beast,  there  being  about  a  thousand 
pounds  of  barley  in  one  of  the  wagons. 

The  teamsters  camped  near  Park  City  for  several  days,  but 
do  not  appear  to  have  begun  work  immediately,  and  while  there 
were  joined  by  another  party,  a  man  named  Emerson,  who  seems 


A  UTAH  MURDERER'S  CAPTURE.  287 

to  have  been  a  pal  and  an  accomplice  of  Welcome's.  Together 
the  three  lived  for  a  while,  sleeping  in  a  tent  and  making  fre- 
quent excursions  to  the  citv  together.  Whether  there  were  any 
quarrels  among  them  does  not  appear,  except  upon  the  testi- 
mony of  Welcome  himself,  who  says  there  was  a  quarrel  on 
the  night  of  the  murder,  but  his  story  is  probably  not  good 
testimony  in  the  connection. 

The  murder  occurred  on  the  evening  of  the  3d  of  July,  1880, 
but  was  not  suspected  for  some  days  afterwards,  as  no  one 
paid  close  attention  to  the  movements  of  the  teamsters  or  to 
their  coming  or  going.  There  had  been  no  witnesses  to  the 
crime  to  tell  the  story,  and  the  murderers  were  allowed  to  move 
on  unmolested  and  unsuspected.  The  first  suspicion  of  the 
crime  was  formed  by  the  family  of  young  Turner,  who,  not  hear- 
ing from  the  son  for  several  days,  began  to  fear  that  some  evil 
had  befallen  him. 

Being  then  told  for  the  first  time  of  the  threats  which 
Welcome  had  made  that  he  would  kill  the  young  man,  they 
became  exceedingly  anxious  for  tidings  from  the  son,  and  began 
to  set  inquiries  on  foot.  They  heard  nothing  until  one  day  a 
telegram  came  to  them  from  Green  River,  Wyo.,  some  twelve 
days  after  the  murder,  from  a  friend,  informing  them  that  a  team 
which  had  once  belonged  to  the  Turners  had  been  sold  at  that 
place.  "My  boy  has  been  killed!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Turner  with 
sudden  conviction,  and  the  young  man's  mother  fell  down  in 
a  swoon  upon  receiving  what  she  too  considered  positive  evi- 
dence that  her  boy  had  been  slain  by  a  murderer. 

A  dav  or  two  afterwards  the  news  of  the  finding  of  the 
body  of  young  Turner  was  taken  to  the  already  heart-broken 
parents.  A  mountain  man  named  Leonard  Phillips,  living  in 
Echo  caiion,  a  stupendous  and  lonely  gorge  in  the  Sawatch 
range  of  mountains,  familiar  to  all  travelers  over  the  Union 
Pacific  railroad,  had  gone  out  one  day  to  look  up  the  outcrop- 
ping of  a  quartz  vein  of  whose  existence  he  knew,  and  noticing 
a  peculiar  odor,  detennined  to  investigate  the  cause  of  it.  The 
stench  was  so  strong  that  he  did  not  have  to  look  a  great  while 
until  he  came  upon  a  pile  of  stones  thrown  in  between  large 
rocks. 


288  A  UTAH  MURDERER'S  CAPTURE. 

Looking  down  upon  this  mass  of  rock,  Mr.  Phillips  beheld 
the  limb  of  a  human  being  protruding  from  the  mass — quite 
a  different  outcropping  from  that  which  he  had  gone  out  to  seek. 
He  was  naturally  horrified  at  the  discovery  which  he  made,  but 
after  taking  time  to  collect  his  thoughts,  determined  to  investi- 
gate further.  He  soon  succeeded  in  bringing  the  body  to  day- 
light, and  was  astonished  at  finding  that,  although  there  had 
been  considerable  decay,  he  was  able  to  recognize  the  remains 
as  those  of  J.  F.  Turner,  whom  he  had  known. 

The  fact  of  the  ghastly  find  being  made  known  to  Mr.  Tur- 
ner, senior,  he  ordered  the  body  sent  to  Provo,  and  there  gave 
it  a  decent  burial. 

The  sad  rites  being  performed  over  the  boy's  grave,  Mr. 
Turner  determined  to  hunt  the  murderer  down.  "I  will  follow 
him  to  the  end  of  the  earth  but  what  I  will  find  him,"  he 
said.  ''The  slayer  of  my  boy  shall  not  live  a  free  man  while  I 
have  life  and  means."  He  accordingly  prevailed  upon  his 
brother  sheriff,  Mr.  Allison,  to  go  along  with  him,  and  together 
they  started  in  search  of  the  murderer.  There  was  no  doubt 
in  the  mind  of  either  that  Welcome  was  the  man  wanted,  but 
it  was  not  known  until  afterwards  that  Emerson  had  had  any 
connection  with  the  case.  Gradually  they  became  possessed  of 
the  facts,  which  they  found  sufficiently  horrible  to  shock  any 
one  not  related  to  the  murdered  man,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
sensation  which  must  have  been  produced  upon  the  father. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

INVESTIGATING  THE  TURNER  MURDER— A  WICKED  DEED  FOLLOWED 
BY  A  GENERAL  DEBAUCH— FLIGHT  OF  THE  ASSASSINS  WITH 
THEIR  VICTIM'S  REMAINS— SALE  OF  HIS  TEAMS  AND  WAGONS— 
THE  FATHER'S  UNSUCCESSFUL  SEARCH— DETECTIVE  CARR 
CALLED  IN— WELCOME  ARRESTED  IN  CHEYENNE  AND  CON- 
FRONTED BY  TURNER'S  FATHER— CONFESSION  AND  TRIAL  OF 
THE  MURDERER. 

At  Park  City  there  were  found  witnesses  who  had  seen  the 
murderers  on  the  evening  of  the  tragedy,  before  and  after  its  oc- 
currence, and  their  conduct  had  been  shameful  in  the  extreme. 
Whether  a  quarrel  was  picked  with  Turner  was  not  known,  but 
the  circumstances  went  to  show  that  there  had  been  no  quarrel, 
but  that  the  murderers  had  found  their  victim  sitting,  and  had 
advanced  upon  him  from  his  rear,  striking  him  in  the  head  with 
a  heavy  axe,  the  blow  being  of  such  force  as  to  cleave  the  skull 
and  produce  instant  death.  Welcome  asserted  after  his  capture 
that  the  blow  had  been  struck  by  Emerson,  but  all  the  circum- 
stances went  to  show  that  Welcome  himself  had  wielded  the 
death-dealing  weapon.  The  skull  wound  showed  that  the  blow 
had  been  struck  by  a  left-handed  person,  and  Welcome  was  left- 
handed. 

There  were  also  several  persons  who  had  seen  blood  on  his 
garments  after  the  tragedy  had  occurred,  as  it  had  spurted  upon 
him  from  his  victim.  His  threats,  too,  were  remembered.  About 
11  o'clock  on  the  night  of  the  killing,  and  after  it  had  oc- 
curred, there  were  several  who  had  seen  Emerson  and  Welcome 
at  a  dance  house  where  they  seemed  to  be  especially  hilarious, 
drinking  and  dancing  with  the  girls  and  making  themselves  es- 
pecially agreeable  to  those  whom  they  met.  One  man  who  was 
in  the  dance  house  at  the  time  noticed  blood  on  Welcome's  shirt 
front  and  asked  him  what  it  meant.  Welcome  at  first  tried  to 
hide  the  blood;  apparently  upon  second  thought,  threw  his  vest 


290  ^  UTAH  MURDERER'S  CAPTURE. 

open  and  showed  the  blood,  and  also  pulled  up  his  coat  sleeve 
and  showed  blood  on  that,  saying  as  he  did  so: 

"I  hit  as —  of  a  b —  to-night,  and  I  hit  him  hard,  too.  I 
not  only  hit  him,  but  I  pinched  his  windpipe  for  him." 

Several  others  saw  the  blood  and  to  them  he  made  this 
same  speech,  but  no  one  supposed  that  anything  more  than  an 
ordinary  fight  had  occurred,  and  none  gave  the  matter  a  second 
thought. 

The  murderers  remained  about  Park  City  for  two  days  and 
three  nights  after  committing  the  crime,  mingling  freely  with 
the  lower  classes  of  people  and  having  as  before  a  gay  time. 
They  had  laid  the  body  of  their  dead  companion  in  the  wagon 
with  the  barley  sacks,  and,  cold-blooded  and  merciless  as  they 
had  been,  had  been  afraid  to  stay  at  their  camp  during  the  night, 
and  had  gone  to  town  each  night  to  carouse  and  to  sleep,  when 
they  could  sleep.  They  appeared  to  be  nonchalant,  but  they 
found,  as  all  murderers  do,  of  however  hardened  character,  that 
the  crime  bore  down  upon  them.  It  was  a  heavy  weight.  They 
tried  to  drown  it  in  drink  and  in  the  gayeties  of  dance  house 
merriment.     But  thev  failed  signallv. 

The  murderers  concluded  that  they  must  get  rid  of  the  body 
and  that  then  they  would  find  peace  of  conscience.  They  deter- 
mined to  move  on,  taking  the  body  as  well  as  the  property  of 
the  murdered  boy  with  them,  and  to  find  some  place  to  hide  it 
from  view,  thinking  that  in  this  case,  as  in  some  others,  the  ob- 
ject being  out  of  sight  would  be  out  of  mind.  They  journeyed 
on,  however,  selling  some  of  the  barley  by  the  way,  until  they 
came  to  a  lonely  and  secluded  spot  in  Echo  caiion,  where  they 
camped  for  the  night,  and  where  they  lifted  the  body  of  their 
former  companion  from  its  resting  place  in  the  wagon  from 
among  the  barley  sacks,  and  as  the  darkness  came  on  in  the  deep 
canon,  laid  it  to  rest,  leaving  the  owls  and  night  hawks  to  sing 
the  funeral  dirge,  and  the  moaning  pines  to  offer  up  prayers  for 
safe  passage  to  the  Great  Beyond. 

So  the  murderers  were  freed  from  their  burden  and  they 
passed  on  over  the  country.  But  were  they  happy?  And  did 
they  find  that  contentment  of  mind  which  they  had  hoped  would 
come  after  getting  rid  of  the  corpse  of  their   late   friend?     At 


A  UTAH  MURDERER'S  CAPTURE.  291 

Green  Eiver,  Welcome  said  to  a  barkeeper  whom  he  met  there: 
''I  can  not  sleep  well  at  night;  I  am  afraid.'' 

He  then  asked  the  barkeeper: 

"Did  you  ever  kill  a  man?"  and  added,  ''I  never  did."  Then 
he  stopped  for  a  moment  as  if  engaged  in  thought,  and  said: 
"Yes,  I  have;  I  have  killed  a  young  and  innocent  man  in  cold 
blood." 

He  seemed  lost  for  a  moment,  and  soon  took  his  departure 
with  a  troubled  countenance. 

From  the  time  the  body  was  disposed  of  in  the  lonely  spot 
in  Echo  caiion,  the  men  pushed  rapidly  eastward,  making  an 
effort  at  every  opportunity  to  dispose  of  their  barley  and  their 
teams  and  wagons.  They  disposed  of  the  grain  at  Evanston,  and 
of  the  first  team  at  Piedmont.  Journej'ing  on,  they  stopped  for 
a  few  days  at  Green  River,  where  the  second  team  and  wagon 
were  sold.  The  articles  were  all  offered  at  prices  below  their 
real  values,  and  some  suspicion  was  created.  The  murderers 
declared  that  they  had  owned  the  animals  for  four  years;  but 
they  at  last  found  a  man  who  had  known  the  team  as  belonging 
to  Turner,  and  who  had  telegraphed  him  of  the  effort  of  a 
stranger  to  sell  them. 

This  was  the  first  clue  which  the  father  had  of  the  son's 
murder.  While  he  was  coming  to  Green  River,  accompanied  by 
his  friend,  Sheriff  Allison,  the  two  men,  having  at  last  disposed 
of  the  property,  took  their  departure  quietly,  and  no  one  seemed 
to  know  which  way  they  had  gone.  The  pursuers  only  reached 
the  place  to  find  that  their  game  had  flown,  and  to  find  them- 
selves arrived  at  the  place  with  nothing  to  do,  and  with  the  pros- 
pect of  starting  back  home  without  finding  the  object  of  their 
search.  The  old  father's  heart  was  almost  broken.  As  a  last 
resort  they  telegraphed  to  Detective  Carr,  Superintendent  Cook's 
assistant  at  Cheyenne,  on  the  23d  of  July,  and  succeeded  in  get- 
ting him  interested  in  the  case.  He  had  no  idea  that  the  mur- 
derer was  near  him  at  the  time  of  receiving  the  telegram,  but 
he  immediately  set  to  work  with  his  usual  vigor  and  shrewdness 
to  bring  down  his  game.     He  did  not  have  to  wait  long. 

Mr.  Carr  soon  learned  that  there  was  a  young  man  in  the 
city    who  answered  the  description  given  of    the    murderer  of 

10 


292  ^  UTAH  MURDERER'S  CAPTURE. 

^oung  Turner.  A  brief  investigation  convinced  the  officer  that 
this  was  the  man  that  was  wanted,  but  the  detective  determined 
to  "make  haste  slowlj,"  and  as  he  knew  that  the  fellow  could 
not  dodge  him,  he  decided  to  watch  him  awhile  before  taking 
him  in;  merely  for  the  sake  of  entirely  satisfying  himself  as  to 
the  correctness  of  his  conclusions.  He  found  that  the  young 
man  had  been  a  guest  at  a  leading  hotel  for  a  week  past,  and 
that  he  had  been  making  himself  generally  agreeable,  spending 
money  freely  and  seeming  to  be  in  very  easy  circumstances.  He 
was  especially  fond  of  buggy  riding,  and  was  a  liberal  patron  of 
the  livery  stables.  On  the  day  that  the  telegram  was  received 
the  young  man  went  out  for  a  drive,  but,  although  he  did  not 
tnow  that  such  was  the  case,  he  was  closely  shadowed  by  Carr. 

The  dispatch  came  just  in  time,  for  later  in  the  day  the 
murderer  undertook  to  continue  his  journey  eastward,  going  to 
the  depot  to  take  the  train  for  Omaha.  He  was  followed  to  the 
platform  by  Detective  Carr,  who  by  this  time  had  learned  that 
the  pursuing  officers  would  arrive  in  Cheyenne  on  the  same  train 
which  Welcome  had  intended  to  board. 

The  scene  as  arranged  and  enacted  proved  tragic  in  the  ex- 
treme. As  the  old  father  and  his  friend  Allison  stepped  off  the 
train  at  one  end  of  the  smoking  car,  Welcome  undertook  to  step 
on  at  the  other  end. 

Carr  had  stood  around  carelessly  up  to  this  time,  but  as  the 
joung  man  started  to  the  train  he  said,  sotto  voce,  "No  you  don't," 
and  walking  up  to  the  young  man  laid  his  heavy  hand  on  his 
shoulder,  causing  the  youth  to  look  with  something  of  an  aston- 
ished air,  and  exclaim: 

"What  is  it?" 

"I  am  a  detective." 

"Oh,  you  are?" 

"Yes,  sir;  come  with  me." 

"What  for?" 

"For  murder — for  the  murder  of  young  Turner." 

"So  you've  overtaken  me.  Well,  by  G — d,  I  suppose  I'll 
liave  to  go!  I  did  it,  and  there  is  no  use  to  kick.  Where  are  you 
taking  me?" 

"To  meet  the  father  of  the  man  vou  murdered." 


A  UTAH  MURDERER'S  CAPTURE.  295 

At  this  suggestion  the  fellow  trembled  visibly,  but  went 
along.  When  he  was  brought  face  to  face  with  old  man  Turner, 
the  latter's  face  turned  ashen  pale,  his  teeth  were  set  in  a  mo- 
ment, and  his  hand  was  thrust  into  his  hip  pocket.  A  moment 
later  and  the  sun's  rays  were  gleaming  along  the  barrel  of  a 
large  revolver  which  the  old  man  had  pulled,  and  with  which, 
in  a  second  more,  he  would  have  laid  his  son's  murderer  low, 

Mr.  Carr,  seeing  the  turn  atfairs  were  taking,  stepped  in  to 
prevent  further  bloodshed. 

Welcome  was  taciturn  and  sullen  in  the  presence  of  the 
father  of  his  victim,  but  being  again  alone  with  Carr,  he  said : 

"By  G — d  I  done  it,  and  I  expect  to  swing  for  it,  I  killed 
Turner  and  sold  his  team,  and  have  spent  the  money.  I  am 
guilty  and  I  expect  to  swing;  of  course  I  do," 

Before  leaving  for  home  with  the  prisoner,  Mr,  Turner  said 
to  a  Cheyenne  reporter,  with  whom  he  talked : 

"I  want  you  to  distinctly  understand  that  Mr,  Carr  of  your 
place  deserves  all  the  credit  of  catching  this  rascal,  and  had  it 
not  been  for  him  he  would  have  slipped  our  fingers," 

The  reward  in  this  case  amounted  to  a  round  thousand. 

Once  on  board  the  train  bound  for  Utah,  Welcome  became 
quite  communicative.  He  had  told  Carr  before  leaving  that  he 
himself  had  killed  young  Turner,  and  that  he  had  done  so  be- 
cause he  had  a  grudge  against  him,  and  because  he  wanted  his 
property.  Now  he  denied  all  connection  with  the  murder,  and 
said  that  the  crime  had  been  committed  by  Emerson,  saying 
that  Emerson  and  Turner  had  quarreled,  and  that  Emerson 
killed  Turner  in  the  fight. 

The  trial  took  place  at  Salt  Lake  City,  on  the  18th  day  of 
February,  1881,  and  resulted  in  proving  a  clear  case  against 
Welcome,  who  did  not  introduce  a  particle  of  rebutting  testi- 
mony. The  jury  was  out  only  a  few  minutes,  when  it  brought 
in  a  verdict  of  guilty  in  the  first  degree.  The  sentence  would 
necessarily  have  been  death,  had  not  Welcome's  lawvers  sue- 
ceeded  in  getting  his  case  before  the  supreme  court,  where  it 
was  remanded  back  for  a  new  trial, 

Emerson,  Welcome's  accomplice,  was  disposed  of  more  sum- 


296  A  UTAH  MURDERER'S  CAPTURE. 

niaril3\  He  was  captured  near  Green  River,  in  August,  1880, 
and  tried  at  the  succeeding  May  tenn  of  the  Salt  Lake  district 
court,  and  sentenced  to  the  penitentiary  for  life,  and  he  is  now 
serving  out  his  sentence. 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

BROUGHT  TO  JUSTICE  AT  LAST— WELCOME,  OR  HOPT,  AS  HE  CALLED 
HIMSELF,  GETS  FOUR  TRIALS— IS  NOT  ABLE  TO  BREAK  THE  WEB 
OF  JUSTICE— CHOSE  TO  BE  SHOT  INSTEAD  OF  HANGED— HELD 
HIS  NERVE  TO  THE  LAST. 

The  second  trial  of  Welcome,  or  Hopt,  as  he  declared  his 
name  to  be,  did  not  bring  out  any  new  evidence  to  materially 
affect  the  case,  one  way  or  the  other,  and  the  verdict  was  the 
same  as  in  the  former  trial. 

Again  his  attorneys  carried  the  case  through  the  territorial 
supreme  court,  and  then  on  to  the  supreme  court  of  the  United 
Htates,  securing  another  trial  with  the  same  result. 

Still  hoping  to  wear  out  the  prosecution,  and  especially  the 
unceasing  efforts  of  Mr.  Turner,  the  father  of  the  murdered  man, 
the  attorneys  for  the  fourth  time  invoked  the  aid  of  the  supreme 
court  and  secured  a  fourth  and  last  trial.  Despite  the  cunning 
of  liis  attorneys,  and  the  sympathy  of  the  powerful  Mormon 
church,  which  he  had  in  some  manner  secured,  there  could  be 
but  the  one  verdict,  and  that  of  wilful  and  premeditated  murder. 
Hopt  heard  the  verdict  with  stoical  indifference,  and  as  the  laws 
of  the  territory  permitted  a  man  to  choose  between  shooting  and 
hanging  as  the  death  penalty,  Hopt  chose  to  be  shot,  and  Judge 
Zane  set  the  time  for  his  execution  on  Thursday,  August  11,  1887, 
more  than  seven  years  after  the  commission  of  the  awful  crime. 

Another  and  final  appeal  was  made  by  his  attorneys  to  have 
the  United  States  supreme  court  set  the  verdict  aside,  but  that 
patient  tribunal  finally  refused  to  longer  retard  justice,  and  de- 
clined to  interfere.  Strong  pressure  was  then  brought  upon 
Gov.  West,  but  he.  too,  decided  that  the  murderer  had  been 
given  too  many  chances  to  escape  the  consequences  of  his  crime 
already,  and  declined  to  interfere. 

Finding  that  there  was  no  alternative  but  death,  Hopt  gave 
up  all  hope,  and  as  the  date  of  the  execution  approached.  Mar- 
shal Dyer  began  his  preparations.     A  space  was  cleared  within 


298  -"^  UTAH  MURDERER'S  CAPTURE. 

the  prison  walls,  and  a  cloth  tent  for  the  executioners,  who  were 
five  in  number,  was  set  up. 

Hopt's  nerve  staid  with  him  to  the  last.  He  ate  his  meals 
regularly,  and  his  sleep  was  apparently  undisturbed  by  any  ap- 
paritions of  his  victim.  At  11  o'clock  on  the  day  of  his  ex- 
ecution he  ordered  his  dinner,  which  he  ate  with  a  relish,  and 
then  called  for  a  cigar.  It  is  doubtful  whether  any  martyr  ever 
met  his  doom  with  greater  fortitude  or  more  real  stoicism  than 
that  which  Fred  Hopt  exhibited  in  accepting  the  fate  which  the 
law  dealt  out  to  him.  He  faced  Winchester  rifles  with  a  bold- 
ness and  intrepidity  that  were  remarkable,  and  while  some  fifty 
or  sixty  men  who  had  been  specially  permitted  to  witness  the 
execution  stood  aghast  at  the  scene,  he  exhibited  not  the  least 
evidence  of  excitement. 

He  sat  on  a  cane-bottomed  chair,  posing  as  though  he  were 
looking  into  a  camera  instead  of  gazing  down  the  muzzles  of  five 
death-dealing  weapons.  Four  of  the  45-70  Winchesters  were 
loaded,  the  fifth  carrying  a  blank  cartridge,  so  that  none  of  the 
executioners  could  lay  the  flattering  unction  to  his  soul  that  his 
gun  carried  the  deadly  missile.  The  names  of  the  executioners 
were  kept  a  profound  secret.  They  were  covered  with  black 
cambric  to  their  ankles,  holes  being  cut  in  their  hoods  to  see 
out  of. 

They  were  sent  to  the  firing  tent  at  12:30  o'clock,  to  which 
United  States  Deputy  Marshals  Pratt  and  Cannon  had  already 
carried  the  weapons.  This  tent,  which  was  thirty-six  feet  from 
the  victim's  chair,  was  of  canvas,  all  enclosed,  with  five  three- 
inch  square  loopholes  cut  in  the  north  side.  The  shooting  took 
place  in  the  northeast  corner  of  the  penitentiary  yard,  the  other 
prisoners  having  all  been  locked  in  the  dining  room  fifteen  min- 
utes prior  to  the  time  when  Hopt  was  brought  forth. 

It  was  12:30  o'clock  when  Hopt  was  told  that  every  thing 
was  ready,  and  he  marched  deliberately  from  his  cell  to  the  spot 
where,  seA'en  minutes  later,  he  paid  the  penalty  of  his  crime. 
He  was  dressed  in  a  suit  of  black  diagonal  clothes,  his  Prince 
Albert  coat,  low  shoes,  white  shirt,  white  tie,  and  derby  hat  giv- 
ing him  a  ministerial  appearance.  He  walked  unfalteringly  be- 
side Marshal  Dj'er,  and  on  reaching  the  chair,  said: 


A  UTAH  MURDERERS  CAPTURE.  gQ^ 

"Now,  gentlemen,  I  have  come  here  to  face  my  fate.  Had 
justice  been  done  me  at  my  first  trial,  I  would  not  have  been 
here  to-day  for  this  purpose.  I  have  no  ill  will  toward  any 
man  living,  and  now  consign  my  soul  to  God." 

A  paper  one  and  one-half  inches  square  was  pinned  over  the 
condemned  man's  heart,  the  good-byes  were  said.  Marshal  Dyer 
gave  the  order  to  lire,  the  guns  clicked  as  though  operated  by 
one  man,  and  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  Hopt  was  dead,  two 
balls  piercing  his  heart,  and  the  other  two  passing  through  the 
body  half  an  inch  below  that  organ.  There  was  a  slight  spas- 
modic action  of  the  muscles  of  the  throat,  but  not  a  muscle  of 
the  arms  or  legs  twitched.  Death  was  instantaneous.  Father 
Kelly,  the  Catholic  priest  who  had  been  with  Hopt  in  his  last 
hours,  administered  extreme  unction.  The  body  was  prepared 
by  the  physicians,  placed  in  a  coffin,  and  taken  to  an  under- 
taker's establishment  in  the  city. 

Sheriff  Turner  was  not  permitted  to  witness  the  execution 
of  his  son's  murderer,  but  stood  outside  the  walls  and  heard  the 
shots  fired  which  put  an  end  to  the  wretch's  existence. 

Hopt  made  no  confession.  He  was  very  guarded  in  all  his 
utterances  during  his  last  hours,  but  he  made  no  protestations 
of  innocence,  nor  did  he  say  aught  implicating  Jack  Emerson, 
who  was  at  least  an  accessory  after  the  fact. 

The  execution  of  Frederick  Hopt  for  the  murder  of  John  F. 
Turner,  seven  long  years  after  the  crime,  rung  down  the  curtain 
on  a  drama  as  replete  with  startling  incidents  as  any  to  be  found 
in  the  realms  of  fiction.  It  is  certainly  one  of  the  causes  celebre 
of  the  West,  and  its  thrilling  events  find  but  few  parallels  in  the 
annals  of  criminal  judicature.  The  case  was  made  interesting, 
not  only  by  the  fact  that  the  crime  was  a  dastardly  one,  but 
also  because  one  of  the  oflicers  who  tracked  the  murderer  was 
the  father  of  his  victim;  not  only  by  reason  of  the  fact  that  that 
father  on  three  or  four  occasions  saved  the  villain  from  mob  vio- 
lence, nor  yet,  because  of  the  patience  with  which  that  parent 
for  seven  long  years  waited  to  see  justice  meted  out  and  the  law 
vindicated,  but  it  is  interesting  because  it  emphasizes  the  mar- 
velous safeguards  which  the  law  throws  around  a  prisoner  in 
this  country,  and  the  maudlin  sentimentalitv  which  a  criminal 
can  arouse,  no  matter  how  cold-blooded  his  (rime  may  have 
been. 


A  TALE  OF  TWO  CONTINENTS. 

CHAPTER  XLII. 

A  SAN  JUAN  FIDDLER  IN  THE  ROLE  OF  ROMEO— SALLY  BERNHEIM 
LEAVES  A  WIFE  AT  LAKE  CITY  AND  STARTS  TO  EUROPE,  FIND- 
ING A  NEW  JULIET  ON  BOARD  SHIP— A  FLIRTATION  OF  THE  SEA 
RIPENS  INTO  LOVE  ON  THE  RHINE  AND  MATRIMONY  UPON  RE- 
TURNING TO  THE  CENTENNIAL  STATE— THE  DESERTION  OF  THE 
SAN  JUAN  WIFE  FOLLOWED  BY  THE  DESERTION  AND  ROBBERY 
OF  THE  DENVER  BRIDE— PURSUIT  AND  CAPTURE  OF  THE  FLEE- 
ING BIGAMIST  AND  THIEF— A  TERM   IN  THE  PENITENTIARY. 

During  the  latter  part  of  October,  1877,  Judge  Foster,  a 
judge  in  one  of  the  districts  of  the  United  States  courts  in  Kan- 
sas, was  spending  a  few  days  in  Colorado,  enjoying  the  delight- 
ful autumn  weather  of  this  climate,  when  there  came  a  sudden 
call  upon  him  to  go  home  to  hear  proceedings  in  an  important 
railroad  suit,  in  which  the  Kansas  Pacific  company  was  in- 
terested. It  was  a  case  demanding  almost  immediate  attention, 
and  distance  must  be  annihilated  in  some  way.  The  Kansas 
Pacific  railroad  was  the  connecting  link  between  Denver  and 
the  point  at  which  the  judge's  presence  was  wanted.  He  had 
hardly  expressed  his  desire  one  evening  to  be  in  Lawrence,  Kan., 
the  next  morning  in  time  to  open  court,  when  an  engine  with  a 
sleeping  car  attached  was  announced  to  be  at  his  disposal.  A 
few  moments  later  and  Judge  Foster  had  seated  himself  in  the 
car  and  the  engineer  was  told  to  fly. 

Just  as  the  car  wheels  were  beginning  to  revolve,  an  en- 
cited  individual  rushed  unnoticed  through  the  dark  and  caught 
the  car  as  the  rear  end  passed  by  him.  Swinging  himself  from 
the  ground  to  the  seat  of  the  rear  platform  he  became  a  fellow 
traveler  with  Judge  Foster  on  his  lightning  express,  they  being 
the  only  passengers.  There  was  considerable  difference  between 
the  two  men,  in  social  position,  in  official  rank  and  all  that 
makes  man  well-to-do  and  respected  in  the  world.    The  man  who 


A  TALE  OF  TWO  CONTINENTS.  3Q3 

had  joined  the  judge  was  a  thief,  a  bigamist,  a  strolling  fiddler 
and  now  a  fugitive  from  justice.  A  queer  combination — the 
same  fast  train  hurrying  one  individual  off  that  he  might  mete 
out  justice  and  another  that  he  might  evade  justice. 

The  train  rushed  out  of  Denver  into  the  prairie  land  beyond, 
and  pushed  on  through  the  darkness  towards  the  east  at  the 
rate  of  fifty  miles  an  hour.  Judge  Foster  lay  back  in  his  cosy 
apartments  and  went  to  sleep.  His  fellow  passenger  clung  des- 
perately to  his  hard  board  seat  in  the  rear  and  busied  himself 
in  holding  his  place,  while  the  train  bounced  junkety  junk  over 
the  rail  couplings.  The  subject  of  his  revery  as  he  sat  thus 
confined  to  his  seat  must  have  been  a  medley  of  women,  of  dance 
hall  music,  of  police  officers,  of  a  lovely  little  home  with  wife 
and  child  down  in  the  silvery  San  Juan,  of  a  voyage  and  illicit 
courtship  on  the  ocean,  of  wandering  along  the  banks  of  foreign 
streams  talking  of  home  in  the  Rocky  mountains,  while  still  he 
was  far  away  in  the  Faderland.  Whatever  the  reverie  may 
have  been,  it  was  suddenly  interrupted  after  it  had  had  full 
sway  for  some  five  hours,  by  a  heavy  hand  falling  upon  the 
shoulder  of  the  fugitive. 

•  ''Who  are  you?"  was  demanded.        ' 

*'My  name  is  Bernheim." 

''What  are  you  doing  here?" 

"I  am  going  east." 

"How  did  you  get  on?" 

"I  jumped  on." 

"With  whose  permission?" 

"With  my  own.'* 

"Then  you  will  have  to  get  off." 

"All  right." 

This  is  a  portion  of  a  conversation  which  our  fugitive  had 
with  the  brakeman  of  the  little  train.  The  party  was  nearing 
Wallace,  Kan.,  where  it  was  desired  to  stop,  and  the  brakeman 
had  come  out  to  be  at  his  post  of  service  when  the  whistle  of  the 
locomotive  should  warn  him  that  it  was  time  to  apply  the  brake. 
The  shrill  cry  was  heard  just  as  the  conversation  was  concluded, 
and  the  trainman  turned  to  do  his  duty.  In  a  few  seconds  the 
train  had  stopped  perfectly  still  and  the  brakeman  turned  to 


304  -^  TALE  OF  TWO  CONTINENTS. 

the  unwelcome  passenger  to  renew  his  command  to  move  ofif. 
But  the  fellow  had  anticipated  him- and  had  jumped  off  as  the 
train  slackened  and  had  disappeared.  He  thus  bade  adieu  to 
Judge  Foster  and  his  fast  train,  the  latter  having  been  of  all 
the  service  to  him  that  it  was  possible  to  be,  as  he  had  cleared 
the  limits  of  Colorado  and  felt  that  he  had  given  the  officers 
a  slip  which  one  scamp  in  ten  thousand  does  not  have  the  op- 
portunity to  give. 

We,  too,  dismiss  the  judge  and  his  whirling  car  and  also 
for  the  present  the  fugitive  from  justice  and  take  him  up  at 
another  time  of  life.  We  still  for  the  present  stick  to  the  Kan- 
sas Pacific  road,  however. 

In  the  fall  of  1S7G,  a  year  previous  to  the  occurrence  above 
described,  on  an  eastern-bound  train,  two  Germans,  a  man  and 
a  woman,  became  acquainted.  At  first  the  acquaintance  was 
commonplace,  made  up  of  formal  courtesies,  but  when  upon 
comparing  notes  the  two  travelers  found  that  each  was  bound 
for  the  same  country,  Germany,  and  that  that  was  the  native 
land  of  each  of  them,  and  when  later  thej  became  passengers 
on  the  same  vessel  across  the  ocean,  the  acquaintance  assumed 
something  of  a  romantic  nature.  To  make  it  brief,  they  landed 
in  the  old  world  affianced.  The  lady's  name  was  Miss  Maggie 
Harencourt,  of  Denver,  a  cousin  of  Mr.  Jacob  Schuler,  of  the 
same  place,  and  she  was  visiting  Germany  for  her  health.  The 
man's  name,  as  given  the  lady,  was  Sally  Bernheim,  a  native 
of  Dusseldorff,  Germany,  and  as  he  represented  to  Miss  Haren- 
court, a  merchant  from  Lake  City,  Colo.,  on  his  way  to  visit  the 
scenes  of  his  boyhood. 

In  Gennany  thej  saw  much  of  each  other,  Bernheim  urging 
the  lady  to  become  his  wife,  and  she  repeatedly  refusing  on 
account  of  her  health.  When  he  returned  to  America,  which  lie 
did  in  the  following  spring,  he  obtained  from  his  sweetheart  a 
promise  to  marry  him  on  her  return  to  this  country.  She  at  the 
same  time  informed  him  of  a  legacy  to  which  she  had  recently 
come  into  possession,  the  amount  of  Avhich  she  did  not  disclose, 
but  it  was  supposed  to  be  something  handsome. 

A  correspondence  was  opened  between  the  two,  which  was 
kept  up  with  regularity  and  fervor  on  both  sides.    The  lady  had 


A  TALE  OF  TWO  CONTINENTS.  395. 

proposed  that  the  marriage  take  place  upon  her  arrival  in  New 
York,  Bernheini  to  go  to  that  point  from  Colorado  to  meet  her. 
Pleading  the  unnecessary  expense  and  the  demands  of  his  busi- 
ness, the  lover  succeeded  in  gaining  the  consent  of  his  fiancee  to 
a  marrige  in  Denver,  to  be  consummated  whenever  Bernheim 
should  learn  from  her  of  her  arrival  in  the  city.  Miss  Haren- 
court  arrived  October  20,  1877,  and  registered  at  the  American 
house,  and  notified  her  waiting  true  love  at  Lake  City  of  the 
fact  of  her  presence.  She  remained  at  the  hotel  three  days  and 
then  repaired  to  the  residence  of  her  cousin,  Mr.  Schuler,  whom 
she  told  of  her  expected  early  marriage. 

A  few  nights  later  the  Denver  and  Rio  Grande  train  from  the 
south  brought  among  its  passengers  Mr.  Sally  Bernheim,  of 
Lake  City,  who  took  a  room  at  the  American.  The  next  day 
he  called  upon  his  promised  bride,  and  their  meeting  was  most 
affectionate.  A  speedy  marriage  was  urged  by  Bernheim  and 
consented  to  by  the  lady. 

In  the  course  of  the  forenoon  they  took  a  walk  about  the 
city,  and  the  confiding  Mis  Maggie  told  Bernheim  that  she  had 
nine  new  flOO  bills,  with  which  she  hoped  to  endow  him,  a 
small  portion  of  the  legacy  to  which  she  had  lately  come  into 
possession.  With  a  natural. and  becoming  solicitude  the  groom 
expectant  urged  the  impropriety  of  her  carrying  so  large  a  sum 
of  money  with  her,  and  suggested  that  she  entrust  the  funds  ta 
him,  and  that  he  would  deposit  the  money  in  the  Exchange  Bank 
in  her  name  and  subject  to  her  check.  A  thankful  consent  was 
given,  and  leaving  the  lady  at  her  house,  Bernheim  went  to  the 
bank  and  deposited  the  |900 — in  his  own  name. 

That  afternoon  at  3  o'clock  the  pair  called  at  tne  residence 
of  Rev.  eT.  G.  Leist,  of  the  German  Methodist  church,  and  the 
twain  were  made  one  flesh.  They,  now  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sally  Bern- 
heim, repaired  at  once  to  Brunell's  boarding  house,  then  a 
fashionable  place,  on  Fourteenth  street,  where  the  best  the 
house  afforded  was  extended  to  them,  and  Sunday  was  passed 
in  the  delectability  of  the  honeymoon.  Monday  forenoon  a  man 
giving  his  name  as  H.  A.  Thompson,  who  was  introduced  to 
Mrs.  Bernheim  by  the  husband  as  a  friend  from  Garland,  called 
on  them  at  Brunell's,  the  bearer  of  a  letter  from   Bernheim'» 


306  '^  TALE  OF  TWO  CONTINENTS. 

partner  at  Lake  City,  which  stated  the  necessity  of  purchasing 
a  bill  of  groceries  at  Kansas  City.  The  letter  was  written  in  a 
business-like  manner  and  shown  to  the  bride,  who  was  forced 
to  admit  the  necessity  of  a  brief  separation  from  her  husband, 
for,  of  course,  the  expense  and  trouble  of  her  accompanying  him 
was  not  to  be  thought  of.  It  was  decided  then  than  Bernheim 
was  to  go  East  to  purchase  goods. 

For  some  reason  this  plan  was  not  acted  upon,  or  rather 
a  new  phase  in  the  affair  changed  the  course  of  the  plot,  as  will 
be  seen.  The  following  day  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bernheim  repaired  to 
Dr.  Buckingham's  office,  the  lady  requiring  medical  attention. 
While  there  a  man  entered  the  office,  and  walking  to  Bernheim, 
said  loudly: 

"How  is  wife  number  two?" 

Receiving  no  reply  he  turned  to  the  horrified  bride  and 
asked: 

"Are  you  this  man's  wife?" 

She  replied,  greatly  agitated,  "I  am,  sir." 

"Why,"  said  the  stranger,  "you  are  not;  and  this  man,  if 
he  has  married  you,  is  a  bigamist,  and  has  a  wife  and  child  in 
this  very  state.  I  am  a  sheriff  from  his  home  and  have  come 
to  arrest  him." 

Imagine  the  feelings  of  the  poor  woman,  her  dream  of  hap- 
piness thus  rudely  brought  to  a  close.  But  where  was  the  man 
who  had  wronged  her?  While  the  stranger  and  the  woman  had 
been  talking,  Bernheim  had  slipped  out  of  the  room  and  could 
not  be  found.  The  stranger  rushed  in  pursuit,  but  had  no  sooner 
passed  out  of  the  office  than  the  husband  returned,  saying  he 
had  simply  hidden.  He  admitted  to  the  weeping  woman  the 
truthfulness  of  the  charge.  He  was  married,  but  was  carried 
into  the  terrible  wrong  he  had  done  by  his  passionate  love  for 
her.  Now,  nothing  remained  for  him  but  to  fly.  He  left  the 
heart-broken  woman  swooning  in  the  office  and  started  by  the 
rear  entrance  to  the  building  for  the  depot.  This  was  about  3 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 

Dr.  Buckingham  was  informed  by  the  woman  of  the 
wretchedness  of  her  condition,  and  that  worthy  gentleman  has- 
tened at  once  to  the  office  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  Detective  As- 


A  TALE  OF  TWO  CONTINENTS.  3Q7 

sociation,  where  he  laid  the  matter  before  Chief  Cook,  bringing 
that  officer  and  also  Sheriff  Abe  Ellis,  of  Pueblo,  who  was  in 
the  office,  to  the  room  where  Mrs.  Bernheim  was  waiting  their 
coming.  In  broken  sentences  the  woman  told  them  her  story. 
Sheriff  Ellis  at  once  recognized  from  her  description  of  her 
husband  a  somewhat  noted  character  of  Southern  Colorado, 
named  Charles  Blume,  a  fiddler  who  had  furnished  music  for 
social  parties  and  dance  houses  in  Garland,  Lake  City,  Las 
Animas  and  other  towns  for  the  past  three  or  four  years.  He 
had  married  a  young  woman  at  Las  Animas  in  1875,  who  with 
their  baby  was  living  in  Lake  City. 

The  detectives  undertook  to  find  Bernheim,  or  Blume,  if 
possible,  although  the  outlook  seemed  very  gloomy.  No  one 
could  be  found  who  had  seen  the  rascal  since  he  had  disap- 
peared from  Dr.  Buckingham's  office,  and  there  was  no  trace  to 
be  had  of  him.  The  next  day  the  man  Thompson,  who  had 
brought  the  letter  to  Bernheim,  was  arrested  at  the  American 
house.  He  denied  all  knowledge  of  the  affair,  except  that  he 
bore  a  letter  from  Lake  City  to  Denver  for  Bernheim.  But 
when,  upon  searching  him,  a  telegram,  written  to  be  sent  Bern- 
heim at  Wallace,  was  found  in  his  pocket,  he  confessed  that  he 
knew  something  was  wrong,  and  that  he  had  come  to  Denver 
in  answer  to  a  telegram  from  Bernheim,  and  had  received  from 
that  worthy  the  letter  he  represented  as  having  brought  from 
Lake  City.  He  said,  furthermore,  that  his  name  was  H.  A.  Mor- 
ris, and  that  he  took  a  fictitious  name  at  Bernheim's  instigation, 
as  he  knew  that  party  had  done.    Thom'pson  was  locked  up. 

The  next  morning,  November  1,  Deputy  Smith,  at  the  insti- 
gation of  Chief  Cook,  took  the  east-bound  express  on  the  Kan- 
sas Pacific  in  pursuit  of  Bernheim,  or  Blume,  it  being  very  evi- 
dent from  the  dispatch  found  on  Thompson  that  he  was  some- 
where on  that  road.  At  noon  of  the  same  day  a  telegram  was 
received  from  Deputy  Smith  to  the  effect  that  Bernheim  had 
stolen  a  ride  on  the*  special  car  carrying  Judge  Foster  to  Wal- 
lace, and  instructing  the  officers  to  head  the  man  off  by  tele- 
graph. The  wires  were  at  once  clicking,  sending  word  to  the 
agents  of  the  detective  association  at  Junction  City,  Topeka, 
Leavenworth  and  Kansas  City,  and  that  night  about  9  o'clock 


p,()g  A  TALE  OF  TAVO  CONTINENTS. 

word  came  over  the  wire  from  Sheriff  D.  E.  Kiehl,  at  Junction 
City: 

''Your  man  Bernheim  is  under  arrest." 

He  was  brouglit  back  without  difficulty,  and  had  to  serve 
out  an  eight  year's  sentence  in  the  penitentiary  at  Cailon  City. 
At  last  accounts  his  first  wife  was  still  living  in  Lake  City,  and 
the  second  w^as  still  in  Denver.  Morris  was  discharged  from 
custody. 


TWO  OF  A  KIND. 

CHAPTER  XLIII. 

HORSE-STEALING  IN  THE  EARLY  DAYS— GEORGE  BRITT  AND  WILLIAM 
HILLIGOSS,  AND  SOME  OF  THEIR  OPERATIONS— OFF  WITH  A 
RANCHMAN'S  VALUABLE  TEAM— GEN.  COOK  ON  THE  TRAIL, 
WHICH  IS  FOLLOWED  AND  LOST— ANOTHER  CLUE  IS  OBTAINED, 
AND  THE  SCAMPS  ARE  TRACKED  TO  KANSAS. 

Back  in  the  early  days,  two  of  the  most  noted  desperadoes 
and  horse  thieves  of  the  Rocky  mountain  region  were  George 
Britt  and  William  Hilligoss,  who,  like  many  others,  did  not 
come  to  grief  until  Gen.  Cook  got  on  their  track.  They  had 
been  guilty  of  many  crimes,  but  no  one  ever  succeeded  in  over- 
taking them  until  Dave  Cook  was  elected  city  marshal  of  Den- 
cer,  and  made  it  his  duty  to  track  them  down,  which  he  did, 
almost  unaided,  and  brought  them  to  town  in  four  days  after 
their  crime. 

When  Cook  was  elected  marshal  of  Denver  for  the  first 
time,  in  1866,  he  printed  a  notice,  saving  that  he  would  agree 
to  find  stolen  stock  when  notified  twenty-four  hours  after  its  dis- 
appearance, and  that  if  he  did  not  find  it,  he  would  pay  for  it 
himself,  after  such  notification.  One  day  in  December,  1867,  a 
well-known  ranchman  named  Mclntyre  came  to  the  city  and  put 
up  at  McNassar's  corral,  which  then  stood  on  the  present  site 
of  the  American  House.  The  next  morning  the  horses  had  dis- 
appeared, and  Mr.  Mclntyre  was  quite  in  despair.  The  animals 
were  very  fine  ones,  and  the  loss  would  have  been  very  severe 
upon  him.  He  had  little  hope  of  recovering  them,  as  up  to  that 
time  the  thief  who  had  been  able  to  once  get  away  with  stock 
had  generally  made  good  his  escape. 

However,  Cook  undertook  to  find  the  stock,  telling  Mr. 
Mclntyre  to  be  of  good  cheer,  as  the  chances  were  that  he  would 
yet  secure  his  property  for  him.  In  looking  about,  he  discov- 
ered that  Britt  and  Hilligoss,  whom  he  had  already  spotted,  had 


310  TWO  OF  A  KIND. 

disappeared.  He  at  once  came  to  the  conclusion  that  they  were 
the  guilty  parties.  This  ''pointer"  once  obtained,  he  soon  added 
one  clue  to  another,  until  he  was  quite  thoroughly  convinced 
that  his  men  had  gone  north.  Selecting  as  an  assistant  a  dep- 
uty marshal  named  Rhodes,  he  started  in  pursuit  on  horseback. 

The  weather  was  freezing  cold,  but  the  officers  traveled  for- 
ward, notwithstanding  this  disagreeable  circumstance,  stopping 
only  to  make  inquiries  for  the  fugitives  and  to  get  their  meals. 
The  trail  was  struck  at  the  Platte  bridge  and  followed  by  the 
oflScers  to  Boulder,  where  it  was  lost. 

Two  days  and  nights  were  spent  in  the  effort  of  the  officers 
to  run  their  game  down,  but  apparently  to  no  avail.  On  the 
third  day  Gen.  Cook  returned  to  Denver,  having  left  Rhodes  in 
Boulder.  He  had  scarcely  arrived,  and  had  had  no  time  for  rest 
or  recreation,  when  he  received  news  from  Capt.  J.  W.  Barron, 
of  Bijou  Basin,  a  member  of  the  detective  association,  telling 
him  that  two  men  answering  the  description  which  he  had  sent 
out  of  Britt  and  Hilligoss  had  passed  there  acting  very  strangely. 
Barron's  message  stated  that  the  men  had  applied  for  something 
to  eat.  They  had  stated  that  they  were  traveling  to  Denver, 
but  after  getting  a  short  distance  from  Bijou  had  turned,  cir- 
cumventing the  settlements  and  going  towards  Kansas. 

''They  are  my  men,"  said  Cook,  "and  I'll  go  for  them  forth- 
with." 

He  had  not  yet  rested  since  his  long  ride  to  the  north,  but 
he  was  off  on  the  next  stage,  which  soon  left  for  the  East. 

In  those  days  there  was  no  Kansas  Pacific  railroad  to  the 
East,  and  all  the  travel  was  done  on  coaches — not  a  very  pleas- 
ant mode  of  traveling  in  cold  weather,  or  when  there  were  In- 
dians about.  This  was  a  time  when  the  plains  abounded  in  In- 
dians, and  when  it  was  necessary  to  keep  a  guard  on  the  outside 
of  the  coach  to  protect  passengers  from  the  Sioux  and  Cheyennes 
and  Arapahoes.  It  was  also  very  cold  weather,  and  frost-bitten 
feet  and  hands  and  ears  were  quite  the  fashion  with  the  travel- 
ers of  the  time.  But  Mr.  Cook  started  out  undaunted.  Stop- 
ping at  Bijou  Basin  and  other  points  only  long  enough  to  get 
information  of  the  progress  of  the  horse  thieves,  he  pushed  on 
with  speed.     At  Cheyenne  Wells  he  received  information  which 


TWO  OF  A  KIND.  3^| 

made  it  quite  certain  to  him  that  he  was  on  the  right  track,' and 
he  exchanged  his  ordinary  clothing  for  a  stage  driver's  outfit, 
so  as  to  avoid  detection.  After  crossing  the  Kansas  line  he 
heard  of  the  fellows  more  frequently,  and  while  sitting  with  the 
driver  he  espied  two  men  just  west  of  Pond  creek,  near  li'ort 
Wallace,  whom  he  believed  to  be  the  men  he  sought.  They  liad 
hired  out  as  laborers,  and  were  carrying  picks  and  shovels,  with 
which  to  begin  operations.  They  were  near  the  road,  and  as 
Cook  drove  closer  to  them,  he  establislied  their  identity  beyond 
a  doubt,  so  that  he  instructed  the  driver  to  stop  after  passing 
them  a  few  feet,  and  get  down  and  pretend  that  something  had 
broken  about  the  gearing.  The  driver  did  as  instructed.  Cook 
also  dismounted  and  walked  carelessly  about,  while  the  driver 
swore  at  the  inate  meanness  of  the  stage  gear. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

THE  FUGITIVES  SURPRISED— THEY  ARE  INCLINED  TO  FIGHT,  FINDING 
THEY  ARE  TWO  TO  ONE,  BUT  CHANGE  THEIR  MINDS  AND  SUR- 
RENDER—A LONELY  RIDE— AN  EFFORT  TO  KILL  GEN.  COOK 
WHILE  ASLEEP  FRUSTRATED— FIVE  DAYS  WITHOUT  SLEEP— A 
SHORT   BUT  THRILLING  CHAPTER. 

Hiligoss  and  Britt  were  evidently  taken  entirely  unaware. 
The  two  thieves  had  stopped  and  gone  to  work,  and  did  not 
suspect  the  shabby  looking  stranger  who  was  now  standing  with 
his  back  towards  them  only  ten  paces  away,  until  he  turned 
upon  them  with  cocked  pistol  in  his  left  hand  and  as  usual,  pre- 
sented with  an  aim  which  thev  saw  would  be  fatal,  and  com- 
manded  in  clear  and  distinct  tones: 

"Hands  up!" 

They  hesitated  a  minute. 

Cook  drew  a  finer  bead. 

"It's  no  use,"  said  Britt;  "he's  got  us,  d — n  it!"  and  up  their 
hands  went. 

Thus  were  two  desperadoes,  either  one  of  whom  was  con- 
sidered a  match  for  any  two  ordinary  men,  taken  by  Gen.  Cook. 
He  even  compelled  them  to  disarm  themselves  by  unbuckling 
their  pistol  belts  and  letting  their  pistols  drop  to  the  ground. 
Then  he  threw  a  pair  of  handcuffs  to  Britt  and  told  him  to  put 
them  on. 

"I  can't,"  Britt  replied. 

"Put  it  on  or  I'll  put  a  hole  through  you  as  big  as  a  bay 
window." 

The  fellow  snapped  the  irons  on.  Both  men  were  served  in 
this  way.      Both  horses  were  also  recovered. 

The  succeeding  night  was  spent  at  Fort  Wallace  waiting 
for  the  return  stage,  and  Cook  was  compelled  to  stay  up  with 
his  prisoners  all  night  to  guard  them.  The  next  day  he  started 
back  with  his  men,  riding  with  them  in  a  stage  coach,  or  freight 
coach,  almost  as  dark  as  a  dungeon  even  in  the  day.     Cook  had 


TWO  OF  A  KIND.  3|3 

now  been  out  for  four  nights  and  was  natural!}^  exhausted.  He 
sat  on  the  floor  of  the  vehicle,  his  feet  resting  against  the  oppo- 
site side,  while  the  two  prisoners  reversed  his  position,  their  feet 
resting  against  the  same  wall  which  supported  his  body.  They 
were  thus  sitting  when  the  officer  dropped  off  to  sleep  after  night 
came  on.  While  thus  situated  Cook  felt  his  pistol  slowly  crawl- 
ing out  of  the  scabbard  by  his  side.  He  was  awake  in  an  in- 
stant, and,  slapping  his  hand  upon  the  weapon,  found  it  half  way 
out,  one  of  the  thieves  having  pulled  it  out  with  his  feet.  Mr. 
Cook  demanded  a  light  from  the  driver  after  this  pleasant  epi- 
sode, which  the  driver  at  first  declining  to  furnish,  he  told  him 
that  he  could  either  give  him  a  candle  or  carry  two  dead  bodies 
to  Denver,  as  he  would  most  assuredly  kill  the  two  fellows  if 
they  were  given  another  opportunity  to  bother  him.  The  light 
was  furnished. 

Cook  now  set  the  two  men  in  one  end  of  the  vehicle  and 
took  a  seat  himself  in  the  other,  telling  them  that  he  always 
slept  with  one  eye  open,  and  that  if  they  even  touched  him  again, 
he  would  blow  them  through.  They  didn't  touch  him  after  this. 
They  afterwards  confessed  that  if  they  had  gotten  Cook's  pistol 
they  meant  either  to  kill  him  with  it  or  make  him  set  them  free. 
He  had  a  derringer  besides  the  revolver,  however,  and  would 
probably  have  been  equal  to  the  emergency  if  they  had  gotten 
his  revolver.  Still  he  did  not  care  to  risk  himself  in  their 
power,  and  hence  did  not  go  to  sleep  again. 

The  scoundrels  were  as  quiet  as  mice  the  rest  of  the  way, 
and  the  journey  to  Denver  was  devoid  of  further  incident,  ex- 
cept that  soon  after  the  little  matter  referred  to  one  of  the 
thieves  had  complained  that  his  handcuff  hurt  him.  Thinking 
the  fellow  had  been  fooling  with  it  in  trying  to  get  it  off.  Cook 
reached  over  and  simply  tightened  it  for  him. 

The  officer  arrived  home  on  the  fifth  day  out.  He  was,  of 
course,  almost  worn  out  and  nearly  frozen.  Turning  the  pris- 
(mers  over  to  the  jailer  he  went  to  bed  and  slept  seventeen  hours. 
When  he  awoke  he  found  the  man  whose  handcuffs  he  had  so 
kindly  tightened  suffering  great  agony,  and  discovered  then  that 
George  Hopkins,  who  was  then  jailer,  had  tried  in  vain  to  wake 
him  to  get  the  handcuff  keys,  but  had  failed  utterly,  so  dead 


314  TWO  OF  A  KIND. 

asleep  had  Cook  been.  He  was  sorry,  but  be  couldn't  cry,  as 
he  had  only,  though  unintentionally,  punished  a  man  who  would 
have  killed  him  if  he  had  gotten  an  opportunity. 

Britt  and  Hilligoss  were  afterwards  tried  and  sentenced  to 
three  years'  imprisonment  each,  but  both  escaped  after  serving 
a  year,  and  neither  has  ever  been  heard  of  since.  The  stock 
were  returned  to  their  owner,  who,  it  may  be  inferred,  was  quite 
rejoiced  at  the  success  of  the  officer. 

This,  take  it  all  in  all,  was  a  remarkable  exploit — remarkable 
in  the  odds  against  Cook  when  the  men  were  captured,  in  the 
persistence  of  the  pursuit,  and  in  its  many  details.  It  has,  for 
these  reasons,  been  chosen  to  suggest  the  frontispiece  picture  of 
this  volume. 


HANGED  IN  A  HOG  PEN. 

CHAPTER  XLV. 

A  GEORGETOWN  SENSATION— MURDER  OF  HENRY  THEDIE  BY  ROB- 
ERT SCHAMLE,  A  FELLOW-BUTCHER— A  COLD-BLOODED  ASSAULT 
FOR  MONEY— ESCAPE  OF  THE  MURDERER— THE  DETECTIVES  ON 
THE  TRACK, 

"Sedalia  can  not  have  Scbamle.  His  goose  is  cooked. 
Found  liim  hanging  over  a  pig-stye  this  morning.  Saltpetre 
can't  save  him.     Biggest  show  of  the  season." 

Such  was  a  telegram  received  from  Georgetown  by  Gen. 
Cook,  on  Saturday,  the  loth  day  of  December,  1877.  Kobert 
Schamle  was  a  brute  of  a  tramp  who  murdered  an  inoffensive 
man  in  Georgetown  a  few  weeks  previous  to  his  lynching,  and 
who  was  charged  with  having  committed  a  rape  in  Sedalia, 
Mo.,  before  coming  to  Colorado.  He  claimed  to  be  the  grand- 
son of  Schamyl,  the  Circassian  warrior,  who  made  a  big  name 
in  his  guerrilla  warefare  upon  Kussia  in  the  early  part  of  the 
present  century.  But  the  probabilities  are  that  he  lied  in  this 
matter,  and  he  is  believed  to  have  been  a  native  of  Switzerland. 
Whatever  his  nationality  or  lineage,  he  disgraced  it. 

The  murder  was  committed  on  the  13th  day  of  October  in 
the  year  mentioned,  the  name  of  the  murdered  man  being  Henry 
Thedie.  Thedie  was  a  respectable  German  butcher  employed 
at  G.  E.  Kettle's  slaughter  house,  about  two  miles  below  George- 
town, near  which  place  he  resided  with  his  family,  consisting 
of  a  wife  and  three  small  children.  The  evidence  obtained  at 
the  coroner's  inquest  conclusively  proved  that  Schamle  was  the 
murderer,  and  that  the  crime  was  one  of  the  most  diabolical 
and  cold-blooded  outrages  that  ever  stained  the  annals  of  a  civ- 
ilized country.  The  murdered  man  was  known  to  have  had 
about  |80  on  his  person  immediately  prior  to  his  death,  and  the 
possession  of  the  money  appears  to  have  been  the  only  motive 
for  the  perpetration  of  the  hellish  act. 


31(5  HANGED  IN  A  HOG  PEN. 

Schamle  was  emploj^ed  as  a  helper  at  the  slaughter  house 
at  the  time,  borrowed  a  pistol  at  Harvat  &  Aieher's  slaughter 
house  on  the  afternoon  of  October  12,  and  although  the  shooting 
was  heard,  and  Schamle  seen  to  flourish  a  pistol  at  5  o'clock 
that  evening,  and  immediately  afterwards  leave  the  place,  the 
result  of  his  bloody  work  was  not  known  until  the  following 
morning,  thus  giving  him  a  start  of  over  half  a  day.  There  was 
no  evidence  of  a  struggle  having  taken  jjlace,  or  of  any  ill  feel- 
ing having  existed  between  the  parties,  and  the  position  of 
Thedie's  body  showed  plainly  that  he  had  been  deliberatly  shot 
and  almost  instantly  killed. 

The  officers  of  the  law  started  in  pursuit  of  the  wretch  as 
soon  as  the  crime  was  made  known,  but  nothing  definite  as  to 
the  direction  he  had  taken,  was  discovered  at  that  time.  It  was 
suggested  in  the  Georgetown  Miner  that  if  The  Rocky  Mountain 
Detective  Association  should  be  employed  it  would  probably  re- 
sult in  his  capture,  but  no  steps  were  taken  in  that  direction 
by  the  proper  authorities.  Two  weeks  later,  Mr.  G.  E.  Kettle 
employed  that  association,  giving  a  description  of  Schamle,  and 
promising  a  reward  in  case  of  his  arrest.  This  step,  as  usual, 
had  the  desired  effect.  The  fellow  was  traced  by  Gen.  Cook's 
force  from  Georgetown  to  Denver,  from  this  place  to  a  point  on 
the  divide,  from  there  to  Pueblo,  and  from  Pueblo  to  West  Las 
Animas,  where  he  was  arrested  December  6,  by  Pat  Desmond, 
a  deputy  of  Abe  Ellis,  at  that  time  sheriff  of  Pueblo  county, 
and  a  member  of  the  detective  association. 

'The  case  was  well  worked  up  by  Ellis,  Avho  was,  during  his 
life,  one  of  the  most  efficient  of  Gen.  Cook's  aids.  In  this  case 
he  had  employed  a  colored  man  to  track  the  murderer  down, 
and  he  proved  quite  a  capable  detective.  Gen.  Cook  had  in- 
formed Mr.  Ellis  that  Schamle  was  coming  in  that  direction, 
and  by  some  means  Ellis  became  aware  of  the  fact  that  the 
negro  man  had  in  days  gone  by  been  associated  with  the  mur- 
derer and  knew  him.  His  sub-detective  was  stationed  about  the 
cattle  yards  at  Pueblo,  as  that  was  considered  the  place  at 
which  Schamle  would  most  probably  turn  up.  The  inference 
])roved  to  be  a  correct  one,  and  the  watch  had  no  difficulty  in 
spotting  the  fellow,  who  came  to  the  place  and  remained  a  day 


HANGED  IN  A  HOG  PEN.  ;^17 

or  two.  While  there  he  was  very  non-committal,  but  did  not 
seem  to  carry  any  great  weight  upon  his  mind,  as  a  murderer 
would  be  supposed  to  do.  For  this  reason  the  negro  had  his 
doubts  about  his  being  the  guilty  man;  and  while  he  was  hes- 
itating about  furnishing  his  information.  Schamle  swung  into 
a  freight  train  and  took  his  departure,  stealing  a  ride  to  West 
Las  Animas. 

Finding  his  man  gone,  Mr.  Ellis  sent  his  deputy  in  hot  pur- 
suit. Being  overtaken,  the  fellow  sullenly  surrendered  to  Mr. 
Desmond  and  accompanied  him  back  to  Pueblo.  He  said  but 
little  on  his  way  to  Pueblo,  but  when  told  in  Pueblo  that  a 
Georgetown  man  was  coming  down  to  identify  him,  he  re- 
marked : 

"I  wonder  if  they'll  hang  me  if  they  get  me  there,"  and  im- 
mediately relapsed  into  silence. 

To  Sheriff  Ellis  he  denied  ever  having  been  in  Northern  Col- 
orado. 

Photographs  were  taken  and  sent  to  Geergetow^n  for  identi- 
fication, and  the}'  were  recognized  at  once;  but  to  make  doubly 
sure,  George  Chapman,  Mr.  Kettle's  clerk,  went  to  Pueblo  to  see 
him  personally,  and  he  at  once  identified  him. 

When  Chapman  met  Schamle  he  broke  down  and  acknowl- 
edged the  crime.  He  said  that  he  quarreled  with  Thedie  about 
skinning  a  beef;  that  Thedie  knocked  him  down;  that  he  got  up 
and  ran,  and  passing  a  pistol — which  he  said  was  borrowed  to 
shoot  some  chickens — he  seized  it,  turned  and  fired,  and  contin- 
ued his  flight,  not  knowing  whether  he  had  killed  him  or  not. 
This  is  his  story,  while  the  fact  is  he  murdered  Thedie  for  his 
monev. 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

SCHAMLE'S  RETURN  TO  GEORGETOWN— THE  VIGILANTES  ORGANIZED 
AND  AT  WORK— THE  MURDERER  TAKEN  FROM  HIS  CELL  AND 
LEFT  HANGING  IN  A  HOG  PEN— THE  LYNCHING  DONE  UP  IN 
RHYME. 

On  the  12th  of  the  same  month  Schamle  was  taken  to 
Georgetown  by  Sheriffs  Ellis  and  Easley.  It  had  been  discussed 
on  the  streets  and  elsewhere  that  he  was  a  proper  subject  for 
lynch  law,  but  no  demonstrations  of  that  nature  were  made 
upon  his  arrival. 

On  the  following  day  his  shackles  were  removed  in  the  pres- 
ence of  a  large  but  not  appreciative  crowd.  Their  remarks  on 
this  occasion  evinced  no  particular  affection  for  him,  and  must 
have  suggested  to  him  the  propriety  of  making  arrangements 
for  a  trip  to  a  warmer  climate  than  Colorado.  On  the  same  day 
he  was  taken  before  J.  P.  DeMattos,  justice  of  the  peace,  but 
waived  examination  and  was  committed  to  jail. 

That  was  all  right  so  far,  but  the  public  mind  was  somewhat 
agitated  over  the  matter,  and  did  not  deem  the  Clear  Creek 
county  jail  sufficiently  secure  for  the  safe  keeping  of  such  a 
wretch  as  Schamle.  The  report  of  the  Sedalia  rape  case  had 
also  reached  Georgetown,  and  this  did  not  raise  him  any  in  the 
estimation  of  the  people.  An  ominous  murmur  buzzed  around 
on  the  streets.  For  one  night  he  was  permitted  to  slumber  un- 
disturbed, if  the  blessings  of  repose  could  lull  such  a  brute,  and 
for  a  few  short  hours  render  him  insensible  to  the  misery  he 
had  wrought. 

On  Saturday  morning,  the  loth,  between  3  and  4  o'clock, 
a  number  of  masked  men  kicked  open  the  door  of  the  room 
in  which  Mr.  Sanders,  the  jailer,  and  A.  W.  Brownell  were  sleep- 
ing, and  covered  them  with  the  light  of  a  dark  lantern  and  three 
pistols,  at  the  same  time  requesting  them,  in  a  manner  that 
showed  they  were  not  to  be  trifled  with  to  hold  up  their  hands 
and  make  no  noise. 


Hanging  of  Robert  Schamle  in  a  Georgetown  Hog  Pen,  by  a  Mob. 


HANGED  IN  A  HOG  TEN.  ^^l 

Both  were  thus  awakened  from  a  souud.  slumber,  and  they 
instinctively  obeyed  orders,  well  knowing  that  resistance  was 
in  vain.  The  vigilantes  then  searched  for  the  keys  to  the  cells, 
and  at  length  found  them  between  the  bed  and  the  mattress 
•where  the  jailer  was  sleeping.  They  then  left  the  room,  leav- 
ing two  men  to  guard  the  door,  and  took  Schamle  from  his  cell, 
some  time  after  which  the  keys  were  thrown  on  the  bed  where 
the  men  werelying,  and  the  lynchers  left. 

Here  there  is  a  missing  link  in  Schamle's  history.  It  is  not 
known  to  the  general  public  whether  he  made  any  unbecoming 
-demonstrations,  or  protested  his  innocence,  or  said  his  prayers, 
the  only  record  being  that  left  with  the  body  by  a  local  poet, 
who  half  lets  us  into  the  secret  in  the  following  lines: 

THE  LAY  OF  THE  VIGILANTES. 

Not  a  bark  was  heard,  not  a  warning  note. 

As  we  o'er  to  the  calaboose  hurried; 
Not  a  Thomas  cat  cleared  his  melodious  throat 

Where  our  hero  in  slumber  lay  buried. 

We  entered  his  cell  at  the  dead  of  night. 

The  bolt  with  the  jail  keys  turning. 
The  moon's  pale  crescent  had  sank  out  of  sight. 

And  never  a  lamp  was  burning. 

No  useless  stogas  encased  his  feet; 

And  we  saw,  as  we  carefully  bound  him. 
That  he  stood  like  a  coward,  dreading  to  meet 

The  shades  of  the  victims  around  him. 

Few  and  short  were  the  prayers  he  said — 
He  did  not  have  time  to  say  long  ones — 

But  he  steadfastly  gazed  at  the  frame  o'er  his  head 
And  grieved  that  the  posts  were  such  strong  ones. 

We  thought,  as  we  hoisted  him  up  from  the  ground 

And  made  the  rope  fast  to  a  corner. 
That  the  cool  morning  zephyrs  would  whisper  around 

A  corse  without  ever  a  mourner. 


322  HANGED  IN  A  HOG  PEN. 

Lightly  they'll  talk  of  the  deed  that  is  done, 
And  wonder,  *'Wlio  was  it  that  hung  him?" 

Though  little  they'll  grieve  to  see  him  hang  on 
The  beam  where  the  "vigilance"  swung  him. 

As  soon  as  our  cheerful  task  was  done, 
Ere  the  light  of  the  morning  was  firing 

The  peaks  that  glow  in  the  rays  of  the  sun, 
We  prudently  spoke  of  retiring. 

Sternly  and  gladly  we  looked  on  him  there 
As  we  thought  of  his  deeds  dark  and  evil; 

We  heaved  not  a  sigh  and  breathed  not  a  prayer, 
But  we  left  him  alone  with  the  Devil. 

This,  to  be  sure,  is  slightly  mysterious,  and  perhaps  not 
entirely  reliable.  At  any  rate,  the  body  of  the  murderer  was 
found  when  the  sun  rose,  hanging  by  the  neck  to  the  frame  of 
a  dilapidated  building,  a  few  hundred  feet  from  the  jail,  which 
is  used  as  a  pig  pen.  As  soon  as  the  deed  became  generally 
known,  a  large  crowd  of  both  sexes  collected  at  the  spot  to 
gaze  upon  the  ghastly  spectacle.  His  toilet  had  evidently  been 
hastily  and  carelessly  made,  but  possibly  he  was  not  to  blame 
for  this.  He  was  minus  his  hat,  coat  and  vest,  and  in  spite  of 
the  predictions  that  are  usually  applied  to  his  ilk,  he  did  not  die 
with  his  boots  on. 

Between  8  and  9  o'clock  a  brief  inquest  was  held  over  the 
remains,  and  a  verdict  in  accordance  with  the  facts  was  re- 
turned. The  body  was  then  cut  down  and  laid  on  the  end  of  a 
large  cask  which  served  as  a  sleeping  apartment  for  pigs.  When 
it  fell  down  the  head  was  gashed  by  the  rocks.  The  body  re- 
mained where  it  was  placed  until  11  o'clock  a.  m.,  and  during 
that  time  was  viewed  by  hundreds  of  people  who  were  con- 
stantly arriving  and  leaving,  and  among  all  that  crowd  there 
was  not  one  pitying  eye,  or  a  single  expression  of  sorrow  or  sym- 
pathy. 

The  action  of  the  vigilantes  was  universally  applauded  in 
Georgetown;  in  fact,  they  were  regarded  as  public  benefactors. 

A  local  paper  said :  ''His  capture  is  another  demonstration 
of  the  effectiveness  of  The  Rocky  Mountain  Detective  Associa- 
tion, and  of  its  great  usefulness  in  bringing  criminals  to  justice." 


A  TUSSLE  WITH  THE  HABEAS  CORPUS. 
CHAPTER  XLVII. 

CHARLES  H.  FOULK  WANTED  IN  PENNSYLVANIA  FOR  ARSON,  LAR- 
CENY AND  PERJURY— HE  PROVES  TO  BE  A  LEADVILLE  GAMBLER, 
MAKING  "PILES  OF  MONEY"— SPOTTED  IN  DENVER  BY  GEN. 
COOK— ARRESTED  AND  JAILED— A  LARGE  SUM  OF  MONEY  FOUND 
ON  THE  MAN'S  PERSON— THE  LAWYERS  INTERESTED— A  SUIT 
FOR   DAMAGES  AGAINST  COOK. 

iJui'iug  the  mouth  of  October,  1877,  Gen.  Cook  received  a 
postal  card  containing  the  following: 

$500  Rcicard — The  above  reward  will  be  paid  for  the  arrest 
and  detention  of  Charles  H.  Foulk,  who  is  under  indictment  for 
arson,  larceny,  perjury  and  subornation  of  perjury.  Description 
as  follows:  Age,  forly-one  years;  height,  six  feet;  weight,  about 
one  hundred  and  eighty  pounds;  has  brown  hair;  had  a  light 
colored  chin  goatee  about  eight  or  nine  inches  long  when  he  left 
here  about  the  20th  of  July,  1877,  which  covered  the  chin  pretty 
well;  long  face,  thin  cheeks,  high  cheek  bones;  blue  eyes;  scar 
on  right  side  of  upper  lip;  large  shot  lodged  in  back  of  one  of 
his  hands — think  it  is  the  left  hand;  upper  front  teeth  far  apart 
and  have  conspicuous  gold  plugs;  large  feet  and  very  long,  and 
always  wears  shoes,  generally  fancy  ones;  when  walking  he 
takes  long  steps,  and  has  a  rolling  gait;  his  shoulders  are  broad, 
stooped  and  of  average  breadth;  gambler  by  profession;  Jaro 
dealing  is  his  choice  game,  and  would  be  found  in  the  association 
of  gamblers.     Arrest  and  notify 

SAMUEL  J.  ANDERSON, 

Detective, 
Harrisburg,  Pa. 

The  card  was  filed  in  the  book  devoted  to  such  literature  in 

the  office  of  the  Detective  Association.     No  trace  of  the  man 

was  obtained,  however,   until  in  January,   1878,  when  another 

postal  card  from  the  Pennsylvania  detectives  stated  that  they  had 

11 


324  ^  TUSSLE  WITH  THE  HABEAS  CORPUS. 

heard  that  the  man  was  in  Cheyenne  and  that  |500  reward  would 
be  paid  for  his  capture.  This  turned  out  to  be  a  false  report, 
but  early  in  March  Gen.  Cook  learned  through  a  member  of  the 
Rocky  Mountain  Detective  Association  at  Little  Rock  that  the 
man  had  been  seen  there,  and  had  only  left  a  few  days  previous, 
on  a  rumor  that  the  marshal  of  that  place  was  about  to  arrest 
him,  and  that  it  was  believed  that  he  had  gone  to  Colorado, 
most  likelj^  to  Leadville. 

The  next  clue  bringing  the  game  nearer  home  was  the  ar- 
rival in  Denver,  early  in  May,  of  a  modest  looking  little  woman, 
who  registered  at  the  ^Vent worth  house,  standing  Avhere  now 
the  St.  James  stands,  as  Mrs.  G.  M.  Curtis,  of  Marysville,  Cal. 
Soon  afterwards  Mrs.  Curtis  left  the  Went  worth  and  went  to 
the  Inter-Ocean,  where  she  registered  under  the  same  name.  The 
next  day,  Thursday,  a  man  registering  as  G.  M.  Curtis  put  in 
an  appearance,  and  claimed  to  be  the  husband  of  the  woman. 
He  registered  from  Marysville,  Cal.,  also,  and  she  acted  as  if 
liis  arrival  had  been  anticipated.  After  his  coming  he  was  seen 
frequently'  in  company  with  gamblers  and  sporting  men.  Gen. 
Cook,  of  the  detective  association,  was  then  sheriff.  He  caught 
a  passing  glimpse  of  him  Saturday  afternoon,  and  at  once  hur- 
ried to  the  office  to  look  up  the  description  of  Foulk.  It  an- 
swered perfectly,  and  having  found  the  man,  the  next  thing  to 
do  was  to  cai)ture  him.  To  accomplish  this,  the  first  officer  re- 
tired from  the  field  and  Deputy  Sheriffs  Frank  Smith  and  Ar- 
nold were  detailed  to  work  up  the  capture.  Thej^  shadowed  the 
man  all  dav  for  two  or  three  davs  and  until  6  o'clock  of  the 
evening  of  the  26th,  when,  being  satisfied  that  he  was  the  party 
they  were  after,  the  two  repaired  to  the  Inter-Ocean  and  waited 
for  Curtis  to  come  in  to  supper.  His  wife  happened  to  pass 
through  the  office,  and  seemed  to  have  her  suspicions  aroused 
by  seeing  the  two  men  present.  She  walked  up  to  the  clerk  and 
remarked  in  a  tone  loud  enough  to  be  heard  by  the  officers, 
"that  she  would  go  out  and  meet  her  husband,  as  he  seemed  to 
be  late." 

Thinking  that  she  was  trying  to  mislead  them,  the  officers 
followed  her. 

Mr.   Smith   then  motioned  to   Mr.   Arnold   to   come   (mean- 


A  TUSSLE  WITH  THE  HABEAS  CORPUS.  325 

while  keei)ing  an  eye  on  Mrs.  F.),  and  said:  ''Get  my  horse; 
she  may  be  going  off  to  get  into  her  carriage."  Arnold  did  as 
requested,  and  overtook  Smith  several  squares  from  the  hotel. 
He  then  concluded  to  get  back  to  the  hotel  as  fast  as  he  could, 
for  he  believed  this  to  be  a  game  put  up  on  them  to  follow 
madame  and  allow  the  husband  to  get  away.  Arnold  went 
back  to  the  Inter-Ocean  as  fast  as  possible,  it  being  understood 
that  if  he  should  find  Foulk  there,  he  should  arrest  him  at  once. 
Smith  was  to  stay  with  the  woman.  Meanwhile  Detective 
Smith  closely  watched  Mrs.  Foulk,  who  had  entered  Mr.  Ballin's 
store,  on  Larimer  street. 

Detective  Arnold  had  scarcely  time  to  go  back  to  the  hotel 
when  Mr.  Smith  looked  around  and  saw  Arnold  coming  toward 
him  with  Foulk  under  arrest.  He  had  been  "nabbed"  with  the 
assistance  of  Officer  Hudson,  and  the  two  came  marching  up 
the  street  with  their  prisoner  between  them — each  having  hold 
of  an  arm. 

When  Arnold  entered  the  Inter-Ocean  he  saw  Foulk  stand- 
ing in  the  hotel  office.  As  soon  as  the  officer  entered,  Foulk 
seated  himself  on  a  chair.  Arnold  walked  up  as  though  he  in- 
tended passing  Foulk,  and,  turning  suddenly,  grabbed  his  right 
arm  firmly.  Hudson  came  to  his  assistance,  and  seized  the  other 
arm,  giving  Foulk  no  chance  to  use  his  revolver. 
Foulk  sang  out  in  a  rage,  "What  do  you  want?" 
Arnold  replied:  ''You  know  something  about  the  Blood- 
worth  murder  committed  in  Leadville?"  [This  was  a  ruse  tO' 
throw  Foulk  off  his  guard  and  to  get  him  away  from  the  hotel 
quietly  as  possible.] 

Foulk  said:    "I  know  nothing  about  Bloodworth." 
Mr.  Arnold:    "You  do;  and  you  must  go  with  us." 
Foulk    walked    along    quietly,    thinking    there    was    some 
blunder  in  the  job,  and  that  he  could  easily  prove  his  innocence 
of  the  charge. 

When  Foulk  was  searched  at  tire  jail  a  large  self-cocking  re- 
volver was  found  upon  him.  He  was  here  told,  in  response  to  a 
question  from  himself  as  to  what  he  had  been  arrested  for,  the 
facts  in  the  case,  but  he  denied  everything,  saying  his  name  was 
Curtis  and  not  Foulk,  and  that  he  was  from  California  instead 


326  ^  TUSSLE  AVITH  THE  HABEAS  CORPUS. 

of  Pennsylvania.  Considerable  money  was  found  upon  his  per- 
son. 

The  prisoner  was  then  taken  to  the  count}-  jail  and  ex- 
amined. There  was  found  in  an  inside  vest  pocket  |933.55.  He 
was  searched  again  the  same  night,  closely,  and  there  were 
found  carefully  sewed  up  in  the  lining  of  his  vest  two  $500  bills 
in  one  place  and  four  |100  bills  in  another  place,  making  the 
total  amount  he  had  on  his  person  |2,383.55,  for  which  amount 
Sheriff  D.  J.  Cook,  of  Arapahoe  county,  gave  Foulk  a  receipt, 
|5  being  handed  the  prisoner  for  spending  money.  On  the  fol- 
lowing morning  Foulk's  wife  visited  him  in  prison,  bringing 
with  her  W.  D.  Carlisle,  a  Denver  lawyer.  They  held  a  con- 
versation for  some  time,  and  going  to  the  sheriff's  office  de- 
manded the  money  taken  from  the  prisoner.  Sheriff  Cook  flatly 
refused  to  hand  it  over  until  it  was  ascertained  whether  it  justly 
belonged  to  Foulk.  The  prisoner's  wife  and  attorney  left  the 
office,  and  immediately  entered  suit  against  the  sheriff  for  the 
sum  taken  from  Foulk,  adding  $1,000  for  damages. 

Although  Curtis  continued  to  protest  his  innocence,  there 
was  no  doubt  left  that  he  was  the  man  wanted. 

It  is  presumed  that  after  leaving  Little  Kock  the  fellow 
came  straight  through  and  went  to  Leadville.  It  is  known  that 
he  stopped  at  Fairplay,  at  the  Bergli  house,  as  the  proprietor 
'of  that  hotel,  who  was  in  the  city  just  previous  to  the  time  of 
the  arrest,  seeing  his  name  and  that  of  his  wife  registered  at 
the  Inter-Ocean,  sent  up  his  card,  but  was  told  that  they  were 
not  in.  Curtis  came  to  Denver  evidently  from  Leadville.  He 
was  there  through  a  portion  of  March,  April  and  May.  He  was 
a  part  owner  in  a  gambling  house  there,  and  the  memorandum 
book  showed  the  receipts  of  the  house  for  each  night  in  the 
month.  The  receipts  aggregated  |1,500  per  month  for  the  first 
two,  and  nearly  that  sum  up  to  the  21st  of  May. 

After  his  arrest  it  leaked  out  that  his  departure  from  Lead- 
ville was  caused  by  the  remark  of  his  brother-in-law,  a  man 
named  Creek,  who  was  a  partner  in  the  gambling  house,  and 
who  is  now  wanted  for  murder  in  Arkansas.  It  seems  the  two 
fell  out  over  the  management  of  the  house,  and  Creek  is  said 


A  TUSSLE  WITH  THE  HABEAS  CORPUS.  32" 

to  have  remarked  in  a  crowd  that  he  "'could  send  Foulk  back 
to  Pennsylvania  for  firing  a  house." 

After  his  arrest  here,  a  sporting  man  who  seemed  to  have 
known  him  in  Leadville,  volunteered  to  go  up  there  and  settle 
up  his  business,  which  was  stil  in  operation. 

Curtis  was  a  very  powerful  built  man.  cool  as  a  cucumber, 
and  is  said  to  have  been  left  severely  alone  by  the  thumpers 
and  roughs  at  Leadville,  because  of  his  determined  manner  and 
his  threat  openlj'  expressed  to  kill  any  man  who  interfered  with 
him.  His  wife  showed  great  distress  upon  hearing  of  his  arrest, 
and  cried  and  sobbed  at  a  great  rate. 

The  Pennsylvania  authorities  being  advised  of  the  arrest, 
dispatched  William  McKeever,  of  Harrisburg,  as  a  special  officer 
to  take  him  to  that  state.  The  officer  arrived  here  with  a  re- 
quisition, and  was  soon  on  his  way  home  with  the  prisoner, 
accompanied  by  Detective  Smith.  The  officers  gave  it  out  that 
they  expected  to  start  on  a  Monday,  but  fearing  a  habeas  corpus 
proceeding,  left  on  Sunday,  driving  to  a  station  with  the  prisoner 
a  few  miles  out  from  the  citv. 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

THE  OFFICERS  IN  CHARGE  OF  FOULK  STOPPED  BY  A  LOCAL  OF- 
FICIAL AT  TOPEKA— THE  HABEAS  CORPUS  DRAWN  ON  THEM— A 
LONG  FIGHT  FOR  THE  POSSESSION  OF  FOULK— HE  IS  LIBERATED 
AND  AGAIN  ARRESTED,  AND  STOLEN  AWAY  BY  SMITH  AND 
M'KEEVER,  WHO  LAND  HIM  SAFE   IN   THE   KEYSTONE  STATE. 

But  all  was  not  accomplished,  and  not  bv  any  means  the 
worst  of  it.  The  officers  sailed  along  over  the  Kansas  Pacific  quite 
smoothly.  All  went  well  until  they  reached  Topeka,  Kan.,  where 
the  party  stopped  to  get  dinner.  At  this  point  W.  D.  Disbrow, 
the  sheriff  of  Shawnee  county,  met  the  officers  on  the  platfoim 
on  their  way  to  dinner.  The  sheriff  stepped  up  boldly  to  the 
part}',  handing  Mr.  ]McKeever  a  paper  purporting  to  be  a  writ 
of  habeas  corpus,  and  laying  his  hand  on  Foulk,  said,  "And 
this  is  my  prisoner!"  claiming  that  a  requisition  upon  the  gov- 
ernor of  Colorado  would  not  hold  good  while  a  prisoner  was  in 
Kansas.-    Here  was  more  of  the  work  of  the  Denver  lawyers. 

Quite  a  scene  now  ensued,  and  a  crowd  soon  gathered  around 
the  platform.  High  words  followed,  and  both  parties  persistently 
claimed  Foulk  as  their  prisoner.  Foulk  here  had  an  opportunity 
to  display  his  wrath,  and  he  seized  it  at  once.  He  appealed  to 
the  crowd  around  him  that  he  was  arrested  illegally — had  been 
robbed  of  his  money — torn  away  from  his  wife — had  been  given 
no  "show"  whatever — was  the  wrong  man,  etc. 

The  prisoner  was  then  taken  before  Judge  Carey,  who  con- 
cluded to  postpone  the  case,  as  he  alleged,  "to  obtain  evidence 
to  prove  that  the  prisoner  was  not  Foulk,  but  ostensibly  for  the 
purpose  of  bringing  on  a  lawyer  from  Denver  to  Topeka,  with 
a  view  of  having  Foulk  released  if  possible.  The  sheriff's  writ 
claimed  that  the  prisoner  was  not  C.  H.  Foulk.  Judge  Carey 
decided  that  the  officer  who  had  him  in  charge  was  bound  to 
prove  that  the  prisoner  was  the  identical  man  wanted — C.  H. 
Foulk.  But  on  their  part  the  Topeka  crowd  had  no  evidence  to 
offer  that  the  prisoner  was. Curtis  and  not  Foulk.  although  Mr. 


A  TUSSLE  WITH  THE  HABEAS  CORPUS.  309 

McKeevei'  was  ready  to  swear  positively  to  Foulk's  identifica- 
tion. Strangely  enough.  Judge  Carey  discharged  the  prisoner  in 
the  very  face  of  the  fact  that  Mr.  McKeever  knew  the  prisoner 
well  and  was  ready  so  to  testify. 

Mr.  McKeever  then  desired  Sheriff  Disbrow  to  rearrest 
Foulk,  and  Detective  Smith  stepped  up  to  the  sheriff  and  said: 

"I  demand  of  you  to  arrest  this  man  (pointing  to  Foulk),  and 
hold  him  as  a  fugitive  from  justice  from  the  state  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, until  we  can  have  time  to  swear  out  the  necessary  papers 
to  hold  him." 

Sheriff  Disbrow,  however,  persistently  refused  to  interfere. 

Mr.  McKeever  then  inquired  of  Judge  Carey  whether  ''Sher- 
iff Disbrow  had  not  the  right  to  arrest  Foulk  without  a  warrant." 
The  judge  shook  his  head. 

Detective  Smith:  "Judge,  won't  you  order  the  sheriff  to  ar- 
rest him  till  we  take  out  the  necessary  papers?" 

Judge  Carey:    "I  have  no  right  to  do  so." 

Foulk's  attorneys,  Messrs.  Brown  and  Carlisle,  together  with 
Sheriff  Disbrow  and  one  or  two  of  his  deputies,  then  hurried  the 
prisoner  across  the  street  to  a  blacksmith  shop,  where  Sheriff 
Disbrow  ordered  the  smith  to  "take  off  this  man's  irons,  and 
do  it  quickly."  Meanwhile  a  crowd  of  about  forty  or  fifty  per- 
sons gathered  around  the  smith  shop  to  witness  the  proceeding. 
In  the  shop  stood  a  horse  hitched  to  a  post.  The  officers  expected 
that  Foulk,  after  his  shackles  were  removed,  would  spring  upon 
the  animal's  back  and  gallop  oft'.  ''Had  the  prisoner  attempted 
that  move,"  said  Detective  Smith,  afterwards,  "instead  of  land- 
ing him  safe  in  Harrisburg,  he  perhaps  would  now  be  looking 
from  behind  the  bars  of  the  Topeka  prison." 

Soon  as  Foulk  started  out  of  the  court  room,  Mr.  Mc- 
Keever repaired  to  the  office  of  Justice  Serrell  to  procure  a  war- 
rant. Remaining  away  rather  long.  Mr.  Smith  went  after  him 
and  pressed  the  justice  for  the  warrant  desired.  The  justice  re- 
plied, "I  can  not  give  you  a  warrant  without  a  complaint."  Mr. 
Smith  then  made  the  charge  himself,  and  carrying  the  docu- 
ment before  the  justice  of  the  peace,  swore  to  the  same  and  ob- 
tained a  warrant  for  the  rearrest  of  Foulk. 

Smith  then  looked  for  the  sheriff  or  one  of  his  deputies  (there 


330  ^  TUSSLE  WITH  THE  HABEAS  CORPUS. 

were  three  or  four  in  all),  but  found  only  one  of  the  deputies. 
He  stated  to  the  man  that  he  now  had  a  warrant  for  the  re- 
arrest of  Foulk,  and  desired  the  deputy  to  go  with  him  and 
arrest  Foulk  speedily  as  possible.  The  deputy  laughed  in  Mr. 
Smith's  face  and  said:    "Oh,  I  have  not  the  time  to  spare!" 

After  a  full  half-day's  work.  Constable  Fred  Miller  was 
found,  and  he  agreed  to  serve  the  warrant.  The  same  afternoon 
at  3  o'clock  Foulk  was  given  a  hearing,  and  held  in  14,000  for 
ten  days. 

The  requisition  from  Gov.  Hartranft  to  the  governor  of 
Kansas  arrived  on  the  next  Sunday,  and  on  Monday  the  gov- 
ernor's warrant  came  to  hand.  Thus  matters  rested  till  9  o'clock 
Monday  night,  when  the  officers  who  had  Foulk  in  charge  caused 
it  to  be  reported  that  they  would  start  East  on  Tuesday  morn- 
ing. One  of  Foulk's  lawyers  repaired  to  the  sheriff's  office  and 
told  that  officer  not  to  deliver  up  Foulk  after  night.  District 
Attornev  Vance  stated  to  Sheriff  Disbrow  that  he  was  in  dutv 
bound  to  hand  over  the  prisoner  whenever  the  officer  wanted  to 
go  East  with  him. 

The  officers  then  devised  the  following  plan  of  action  in 
order  that  there  might  be  no  further  interference.  They  made, 
or  rather  pretended  to  make,  confidants  of  a  number  of  Topekans, 
and  stated  to  them  that  they  would  leave  Topeka  by  team; 
would  strike  for  the  Atchison  and  Nebraska  railroad  at  Brenner's 
station,  fourteen  miles  northwest  of  Atchison ;  that  it  would  take 
three  or  four  days  to  get  there,  and  by  that  time  the  friends 
of  Foulk  would  leave  the  track  of  them  and  give  them  no  fur- 
ther trouble.  This  ruse  worked  splendidly'.  Instead  of  taking 
the  above  route,  thej'  left  North  Topeka  the  same  night,  driving 
at  a  rapid  gait  three-quarters  of  a  mile;  thence  headed  south- 
ward the  same  distance;  then  headed  due  east  to  Lawrence,  dis- 
tance twenty-eight  miles — all  after  dark.  From  Lawrence  they 
drove  to  Plymouth  Hill  station.  Mo..  120  miles  from  Topeka, 
traveling  with  Foulk  now  as  a  companion,  having  no  irons  on 
him.  The  above  distance  was  made  from  ^londay,  9  p.  m.,  till 
Tuesday,  7:55  p.  m.,  when  they  boarded  the  Missouri  Pacific 
train  eastward  bound. 

McKeever  procured  the  tickets  and  attended  to  the  baggage 


A  TUSSLE  WITH  THE  HABEAS  CORPUS.  33] 

while  Mr.  Smith  got  Foulk  on  the  train  on  the  side  opposite  the 
platform,  unobserved.  Three  tickets  were  purchased  for  St. 
Louis,  one  of  which  was  placed  in  Foulk's  hands,  so  tuat  the 
conductor  could  obtain  it  without' exciting  suspicion.  Smith  sat 
behind  the  prisoner  and  McKeever  opposite. 

Directly  afterward  a  well  built,  robust  man  came  through 
the  cars,  stopping  in  front  of  Detective  Smith,  eyeing  him  and 
Foulk  sharply.  (The  man  was  supposed  to  be  an  oflQcer  with  an 
ofiScial  paper.)    Eyeing  Mr.  Smith  for  a  few  minutes,  he  said : 

"Ain't  your  name  William  Johnson?" 

"My  name  is  AA^illiam  Franklin,"  replied  Mr.  Smith. 

The  stranger  continued:  "I  thought  I  knew  you;  once  knew 
a  man  resembling  you  very  much." 

"Guess  you  have  struck  the  wrong  man,''  replied  the  ofBcer. 

The  stranger  walked  off  and  left  the  train  at  Sedalia,  Mo., 
at  10:15  a.  m.  Detective  Smith  had  a  curiosity  to  know  more 
about  him  and  stepped  out  upon  the  platform,  where  he  observed 
the  man  walk  up  to  three  others,  and  handing  them  a  paper, 
remarked:    "They  are  not  on  this  train." 

All  hands  feeling  fatigued  after  two  days'  excitement  and 
an  all-night  drive,  they  took  a  sleeping  car  and  retired,  Foulk 
consenting  to  sleep  between  them.  The  officers,  however,  never 
closed  their  eyes.  Next  morning  they  reached  St.  Louis,  and 
from  that  point  to  Harrisburg  had  no  further  trouble.  Foulk 
denied  his  name  until  the  party  reached  St.  Louis,  where  he 
admitted  that  he  was  Foulk  and  not  Curtis.  He  was  met  at 
the  depot  by  a  number  of  his  former  friends,  who  cordially 
shook  him  by  the  hand, 

He  was  taken  to  Carlisle  by  Detective  Smith,  who  collected 
his  reward  and  returned  home,  the  money  found  upon  Foulk 
being  turned  over  when  it  became  known  to  whom  it  belonged. 
Next  to  Foulk  himself,  his  Denver  attornevs  fared  worse  than 
any  one  else.  They  fell  into  great  disfavor  because  of  the  part 
they  took  in  the  affair,  and  one  of  them  soon  left  the  city  and 
has  not  been  seen  in  it  since.  Of  course  the  damage  suit  against 
Cook  was  soon  dismissed. 

The  charges  against  Foulk  were  not  proven,  and  after  com- 
ing back  to  Denver  and  getting  his  money,  he  went  to   Hot 


332  '"^  TUSSLE  WITH  THE  HABEAS  CORPUS. 

Springs,  Ark.,  where  in  partnership  with  another  man  he  opened 
up  a  big  gambling  hall.  Gen.  Cook  met  him  there  in  1883^ 
going  by  the  name  of  Potts.  A  couple  of  years  after  that  Foulks 
was  shot  by  a  negro  policeman  who  was  trying  to  halt  him  for 
fast  driving.  The  policeman  called  to  him  to  stop,  and  he  told 
him  to  "go  to  h — 1."  The  policeman  shot  him  through  the  back 
of  the  head,  killing  him  instantly. 


A  DESPEKATE  RAILROAD  CONTRACTOR. 

CHAPTER  XLIX. 

A  TRAGEDY  ON  THE  UNION  PACIFIC  IN  '68— JOHN  KELLY'S  COLD- 
BLOODED MURDER  OF  CHARLEY  MAXWELL,  A  COLORADO  BOY- 
SHOT  DOWN  FOR  ASKING  FOR  DUES  AND  THE  MURDER  FINISHED 
AS  THE  BOY  PRAYS  FOR  HIS  LIFE— KELLY'S  ESCAPE— HE  IS 
HUNTED  DOWN  BY  DETECTIVE  BOSWELL  AND  FOUND  IN  MIS- 
SOURI, WHERE  HE  IS  CAPTURED  WITH  THE  AID  OF  A  BULLET- 
PURSUIT  BY  A  MOB  OF  RAILROAD  LABORERS. 

Charley  Maxwell,  a  bright-faced  and  well-dispositioned  lad, 
was  shot  down  in  a  cold  and  cruel  way  by  one  John  Kelly,  a 
contractor  on  the  Union  Pacific  railroad,  near  Fort  Steele, 
Wyo.,  in  1SG8,  while  the  railroad  was  building  through  that 
country.  He  was  a  Colorado  boy,  and  his  parents  had  permitted 
him  to  go  away  from  home  to  secure  work,  and  he  had  taken 
a  place  under  Kelly  as  night  herder  of  the  contractor's  stock. 
The  boy  owned  an  excellent  pony,'  which  was  almost  his  entire 
property,  and  he  was  naturally  very  fond  of  it.  One  day  the 
Cli€»yenne  Indians  came  along  and  stole  it,  and  left  him  quite 
in  despair  at  his  loss.  His  grief  was  so  intense  as  to  have  an 
effect  upon  the  railroad  workmen,  and  their  sympathy  grew  to 
be  so  strong  that  they  determined  to  buy  him  another  pony, 
and  raised  sufficient  money  for  this  purpose  by  clubbing  to- 
gether. The  animal  being  procured,  young  Maxwell  decided 
one  day  to  return  to  Colorado,  and  demanded  a  settlement  with 
his  employer.  Kelly  was  a  rich  man,  worth  perhaps  no  less 
than  a  hundred  thousand  dollars,  but  he  was  about  as  small  a 
specimen  of  manhood  as  was  ever  permitted  to  live  in  this  west- 
ern country',  where  such  characters  as  a  rule  are  not  tolerated 
long  at  a  time.  ^Yhen  the  boy  asked  to  be  paid  for  his  services 
Kellv  coolly  handed  him  the  amount  due,  less  the  cost  of  the 
pony — with  the  purchase  of  which  he  had  had  nothing  to  do, 
mind  you — saying  that  he  would  deduct  the  amount  paid  for 


3;-54        ^  DESPERATE  RAILROAD  CONTRACTOR. 

the  animal  from  the  boy's  pay.  Maxwell  was  indignant,  but 
helpless.  He  could  only  appeal  for  his  just  dues.  This  he  did 
when  opportunity  offered,  and  seeing  Kelly  in  a  bank  one  daj', 
went  in  and  asked  him  for  the  balance  which  he  thought  should 
be  to  his  credit.  Kelly  turned  upon  him  with  wrath  and  poured 
a  stream  of  profanity  upon  him,  exclaiming  as  he  went  out  of 
the  bank: 

"FU  teach  you,  you  d — d  little  s —  of  a  b — ,  to  ask  me  for 
money!" 

He  passed  out  of  sight  for  the  time,  and  Maxwell  thought  no 
more  of  the  matter  until  he  saw  Kelly  coming  down  the  street 
with  a  rifle  thrown  across  his  shoulder.  He  was  then  uncertain 
as  to  the  man's  purpose  and  made  no  attempt  to  get  away.  Pass- 
ing down  the  street  on  the  opposite  side  from  the  boy,  he  said 
nothing  until  directly  across  from  him,  when  he  threw  his  gun 
across  the  wheel  of  a  wagon  for  a  rest,  and,  taking  deliberate 
aim  at  Maxwell,  shot  him  down  in  his  tracks.  The  boy  fell 
bleeding,  crying: 

"O  Mr.  Kelly,  you  have  shot  me;  please  let  me  live.  I  will 
not  bother  you  again." 

Kelly  loaded  his  gun  and  walked  across  the  street,  saying 
in  response  to  the  lad's  utterancs: 

"I  don't  think  you  will,"  responded  Kelly  as  he  placed  the 
muzzle  of  the  weapon  to  the  boy's  ear;  ''not  if  I  know  what  I 
am  about.  No,  you  won't  ask  me  for  any  more  money  in  a  pub- 
lic bank.     I'll  warrant  you  don't." 

As  he  spoke  the  last  words  the  trigger  was  pulled,  and  the 
top  of  the  writhing  boy's  head  was  blown  almost  off  by  the 
bullet  which  went  crashing  through  it. 

The  men  around  were  most  of  them  employ(?s  of  Kelly's,  to 
which  fact  alone  is  doubtless  due  his  escape  from  lynching  at 
the  time.  He  was  arrested  and  imprisoned  at  Fort  Steele,  but 
soon  escaped  from  there  and  disappeared.  Kelly's  home  was  in 
Council  Bluffs,  Iowa,  and  thitherward  he  wended  his  way.  In 
Omaha  he  was  arrested,  but  contrived  to  get  out  of  jail,  whether 
by  the  use  of  money  is  not  known.  In  Council  liluffs  the  pro- 
gramme was  repeated,  and  the  fellow  after  that  was  allowed  to 
go  free  for  over  two  j'ears. 


A  DESPERATE  RAILROAD  CONTRACTOR.        335 

In  1870  Maxwell's  father  decided  to  make  a  last  effort  to 
have  his  son's  murder  avenged,  and  he  jjlaced  the  matter  be- 
fore Mr.  N.  K.  Boswell,  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  Detective  Asso- 
ciation of  Laramie  City,  to  whom  he  related  the  facts,  saying  he 
was  poor  and  able  to  pay  but  little,  and  appealing  to  Mr.  Bos- 
well's  humanity.  Mr.  Boswell  undertook  the  case,  and  never 
did  a  detective  work  more  assiduously',  or  with  more  skill,  or 
display  greater  tenacity  of  purpose  or  more  downright  courage 
than  did  Boswell  on  this  case.  The  story  would,  indeed,  be  told 
except  for  the  detective's  work;  but  as  it  is,  it  is  just  beginning. 

Mr.  Boswell  soon  learned  the  place  of  residence  of  his  man, 
and  going  to  Council  Bluffs,  there  ascertained  that  Kelly  was 
still  contracting,  and  that  at  that  time  he  was  engaged  near 
Red  Oak,  on  the  line  of  the  Burlington  and  Missouri  road,  which 
was  then  being  built  in  that  section. 

In  looking  over  the  ground,  Mr.  Boswell  found  that  his  man 
was  engaged  three  miles  from  Red  Oak,  but  that  to  get  a  train 
it  would  be  necessary  to  drive  forty  miles,  to  the  junction  of  the 
Missouri  Pacific  railroad,  through  a  thinly-  inhabited  region. 
Mr.  Boswell,  however,  arranged  his  programme  perfectly  in  ad- 
vance, ascertained  the  time  at  which  trains  passed  the  junction, 
and  secured  the  services  of  a  faithful  man,  the  sheriff  of  the 
county  in  which  Kelly  was  at  work,  and  together  they  drove 
out  to  the  point  where  Kelly  was  supposed  to  be  engaged. 

Mr.  Boswell  had  never  seen  Kelly,  but  he  carried  such  a 
complete  description  of  him  that  he  knew  he  would  recognize 
him  at  first  glance.  Fortunately  the  officers  came  upon  the 
fugitive  alone.  As  they  drove  along  by  the  side  of  a  railroad 
cut,  they  recognized  him  standing  on  the  other  side  of  the  cut. 
After  observing  the  movements  of  the  officers  for  a  few  minutes, 
Kelly  apparently  decided  in  his  own  mind  that  they  could  bode 
no  good  to  him,  and  started  to  walk  away  from  them.  ^Yhen 
they  cried  to  him  to  stop  he  only  walked  the  faster,  and  soon  he 
started  to  run,  evidently  intending  to  reach  a  wagon  and  span 
of  horses  standing  half  a  mile  away  across  the  prairie.  The 
officers  then  left  their  horses  standing  and  crossed  the  cut,  find- 
ing Kelly  at  a  dead  run  by  the  time  they  came  up  on  his  side 
of  the  track.     They  again  shouted  to  him  to  stop,  and  as  he  did 


336  -^  DESPERATE  RAILROAD  CONTRACTOR. 

not  obey  the  command,  Boswell  had  his  man  send  a  shot  after 
the  fugitive.     With  this  he  ran  the  faster, 

Boswell  again  warned  Kelly  that  if  he  did  not  stop  he  would 
shoot  him  dead;  but  the  fellow  paid  no  heed,  and  only  continued 
his  run.  He  was  fast  gaining  upon  the  officers,  and  was  evi- 
dently determined  not  to  surrender.  Boswell  decided  to  make  a 
grand  effort  to  bring  his  man  down.  The  fellow  was  running 
rapidly  and  the  distance  was  great.  Boswell  is  ordinarily  a 
dead  shot,  but  at  this  time  the  great  distance,  and  the  fact  that 
he  had  on\y  his  pistol,  were  odds  against  him.  He,  however, 
stopped,  and  deliberately  squatting,  placed  his  pistol  on  his  knee. 
Almost  simultaneously  with  the  report  of  the  pistol  Kelly 
stopped,  threw  up  his  hands  and  exclaimed : 

''My  God,  stop!     You  have  wounded  me.     I  will  surrender!" 

Going  up  they  found  Kelly  lying  upon  the  ground  with  a 
bullet  hole  through  his  body,  entering  at  the  small  of  the  back 
and  passing  out  near  the  navel.  Seriously  wounded  as  one 
would  have  supposed  the  fellow  to  be,  shot  as  he  was,  he  scarcely 
bled  at  all,  and  he  did  not  appear  to  be  materially  disabled.  The 
officers  compelled  him  to  go  back  with  them.  One  of  them 
stepped  the  distance  as  they  returned,  and  found  that  Boswell 
had  shot  two  hundred  and  twenty  yards  when  he  struck  Kelly. 
They  found  their  man  desperate,  but  apparently  helpless.  He 
swore  with  violent  rage  when  first  taken,  and  asserted  that  he 
had  been  murdered  in  cold  blood,  saying  that  he  would  not  have 
been  taken  at  all  if  his  captors  had  not  taken  a  miserable  ad- 
vantage of  him. 

The  officers  were  soon  permitted  to  see  for  themselves  how 
difficult,  if  not  impossible,  it  would  have  been  for  them  to  secure 
their  man  had  they  come  upon  him  at  a  less  fortunate  time  than 
they  did.  The  firing  of  the  pistols  had  attracted  the  attention 
of  Kelly's  work  hands,  who  were  engaged  near  the  scene  of  the 
shooting,  and  the  officers  had  not  gotten  Kelly  to  the  carriage, 
when  the  laborers  began  to  swarm  around  them.  There  were 
no  fewer  than  sixty  of  them,  led  by  a  brother  of  Kelly,  who  came 
marching  towards  them,  armed  with  sticks  and  stones,  and 
swearing  that  Kelly  could  not  be  taken  away. 


■-J 
1-1 
a 


o 
o 


O 

c 


P3 


a. 

■-s 

CD 

>-> 


OD 

OS 
pa 

cr 
O 

a 
o 


A  DESPERATE  RAILROAD  CONTRACTOR,        339 

■ 

"We'll  show  you  about  that,"  responded  Boswell.  "We 
came  for  him  and  we  will  take  him.     Keep  jour  distance!" 

As  Boswell  talked,  the  two  oflScers  leveled  their  guns  at  the 
crowd  and  ordered  them  to  not  make  a  move.  Kelly  was  told 
to  get  in  the  buggy,  but  he  declared  that  he  was  unable  to  do  so. 
Boswell,  stilL  keeping  his  pistol  leveled  at  the  crowd,  told  his  fel- 
low officer  to  shoot  Kelly  down  on  the  spot  if  he  did  not  step 
into  the  vehicle  immediately.  The  order  had  its  desired  effect. 
Kelly  stepped  into  the  buggy,  and  the  officers  drove  off,  cover- 
ing the  mob  with  their  pistols  until  well  out  of  their  range, 
leaving  them  gnashing  their  teeth  and  swearing,  but  in  vain. 

A  fine  prospect  the  officers  had  before  them — very  fine,  in- 
deed I  A  wounded  man  to  take  care  of,  and  how  badly  wounded 
they  did  not  know ;  a  howling  mob,  headed  by  the  brother  of  the 
prisoner,  to  follow  them,  and  forty  miles  to  the  nearest  railroad 
station,  through  a  wild  country,  to  them  comparatively  unknown. 
But  Boswell  is  a  man  who  never  knew  fear,  who  never  shirked 
a  duty,  however  gloomy  the  outlook  or  dangerous  the  path  to 
be  trod.  He  felt  that  his  safety  depended  on  the  celerity  of  his 
movements,  and  he  decided  to  ''get  up  and  dust."  His  captive 
complained  a  great  deal  at  first  at  the  pain  occasioned  by  the 
jolting  of  the  vehicle;  but  finding  that  his  groans  occasioned  no 
apparent  compassion  in  the  breast  of  his  captor,  that  it  certainly 
did  not  cause  him  to  slacken  his  speed,  he  at  last  settled  down 
into  grim  and  sullen  endurance,  and  the  party  drove  on,  no  one 
saying  anything.  Boswell's  companion  held  the  reins,  Boswell 
kept  his  arms  in  readiness  to  meet  any  sudden  attack,  and  the 
prisoner  continually  glanced  about  him  for  the  friends  which  he 
felt  confident  would  come  to  his  relief  sooner  or  later. 


CHAPTER  I. 

A  LONG  AND  PERILOUS  RIDE— THE  MOTLEY  MOB  COMES  UP— TWa 
MEN,  BY  EXERCISING  A  LITTLE  COOLNESS  AND  A  GOOD  DEAL  OF 
COURAGE,  STAND  OFF  FORTY— AGAIN  ATTACKED  AT  THE  DEPOT 
—WADING  THROUGH  AN  ARMY  OF  DESPERATE  CHARACTERS— OFF 
FOR  COUNCIL  BLUFFS— THE  JAIL  ASSAULTED— FORTY  THOUSAND 
DOLLARS  OFFERED  FOR  KELLY'S  RELEASE— DESPERATE  EFFORT 
TO  ESCAPE  IN  OMAHA— AFTER  MANY  TRIALS  DETECTIVE  BOS- 
WELL  LANDS  HIS  PRISONER  IN  LARAMIE  CITY. 

The  arrest  of  Kelly  had  been  made  early  in  the  morninj^, 
and  it  was  not  late  in  the  day  when  Red  Oak  was  reached.  A 
brief  stop  was  made  at  this  point  to  consult  a  physician  as  to- 
Kelly's  wound.  The  man  of  medicine  said  the  prisoner  had  been 
dangerously  shot;  that  the  ball  had  passed  through  the  abdomen, 
and  the  chances  were  two  to  one  that  he  would  die,  but  that  his 
prospects  would  be  in  no  wise  injured  by  taking  him  on  to 
Pacific  Junction.  Much  against  Kelly's  will  the  officers  mounted 
the  vehicle,  and  with  a  "go  long  there,"  were  oft"  on  the  long  and 
dangerous  journey. 

On  they  went,  as  fast  as  the  rough  roads  and  the  speed  of 
their  animals  would  permit,  feeling  that  every  step  they  went 
was  putting  danger  all  the  further  from  them.  They  began  to 
feel  somewhat  secure  from  attack  when  they  passed  the  half-way 
point  on  their  road.  But  their  exultation  was  only  short-lived. 
They  were  jogging  along  over  a  corduroy  road  through  heavily 
shaded  bottom  land,  when,  glancing  back,  they  beheld  a  small 
and  motley  army  advancing  upon  them.  Kelly's  brother  had 
gotten  about  twenty  men  together,  arnn^d  them  with  revolvers, 
shot  guns,  shovels,  pitchforks,  and  mounted  them  on  mules  and 
"old  j)lugs"  of  horses,  and  had  come  in  i)ursuit.  They  were  gal- 
loping along  over  the  rough  road  strung  out  for  a  hundred  yards, 
making  quite  a  formidable  appearance,  indeed. 

"Well,"  I  guess  we'll  just  give  them  the  best  we've  got  in  the 
shop,  anyhow,"  says  Boswell.     "Let  them  come  if  they  want  to,"^ 


A  DESPERATE  RAILROAD  CONTRACTOR.  341 

in  a  general  waj',  and  to  his  companion  officer,  "Put  your  pistol 
to  Kelly's  ear  and  blow  the  top  of  his  head  off  if  he  makes  a 
move,  or  if  his  friends  do,''  at  the  same  time  nudging  the  officer 
as  a  warning  not  to  take  him  literally  at  his  word.  The  com 
mand  was  intended  for  Kelly's  ear  and  not  for  the  officer's.  We 
shall  soon  see  whether  the  stratagem  had  its  desired  effect. 

In  the  meantime  the  horses  had  been  stopped,  and  Boswell 
remarking,  "I  guess  we'll  face  the  music  light  here,"  had  jumped 
out  of  the  wagon,  leaving  his  companion  to  take  care  of  Kelly 
while  he  should  face  the  mob.  They  rushed  on  even  after  Bos- 
w^ell  had  stepped  out.  When  the  infuriated  crowd  had  come 
within  hailing  distance,  Boswell  raised  his  pistol  and  ordered 
them  to  stop.  But  they  did  not  stop.  He  drew  a  bead  on  the 
leader  and  shouted  to  him: 

"Move  another  step  and  I'll  shoot  you  dead  as  you  come." 

This  had  its  effect  and  the  mob  drew  the  reins  on  their 
animals  and  came  to  an  unwilling  standstill. 

"Now,  what  do  you  want?"  he  asked. 

"We  want  Kelly,  and  mean  to  take  him." 

"Oh,  you  do,  eh?    Well,  if  that  is  all,  come  on  and  get  him." 

It  was  now  Kelly's  time  to  speak.  The  muzzle  of  a  cocked 
revolver  was  jammed  into  his  ear  and  a  Ann  officer's  fore-finger 
almost  touched  a  trigger  so  that  a  move  of  it  would  have  sent 
him  into  eternity  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  He  fancied  that  he 
could  almost  hear  the  crush  of  the  hammer,  and  he  trembled  like 
an  aspen  bough  as  he  shouted  to  his  rash  friends: 

"For  God's  sake,  boys,  don't  make  a  move;  they  will  kill 


me." 


This  had  its  effect,  and  a  brief  parley  resulted  in  a  promise 
from  the  crowd  to  not  further  molest  the  officers.  They  were 
told  that  if  they  should  again  attempt  to  come  upon  them, 
Kelly  would  be  killed  outright  and  that  the  officers  were  pre- 
pared to  kill  at  least  twelve  of  their  assailants  before  being 
taken. 

The  mob  were  true  to  their  word,  and  did  not  put  in  an  ap- 
pearance during  the  remainder  of  the  entire  drive,  which  was 
made  as  hurriedly  as  possible.  The  captive  and  captors  reached 
the  junction  a  few  minutes  before  train  time,  as  Mr,  Boswell 


342        ^  DESPERATE  RAILROAD  CONTRACTOR. 

had  calculated  to  do.  They  found,  somewhat  to  their  surprise, 
that  Kelly's  brother  and  his  party  had  taken  another  road  and 
had  gotten  in  ahead  of  them  and  had  rallied  a  mob  of  two 
hundred  to  their  support,  who  swore  vehemently  that  Kelly 
should  never  be  taken  on  the  cars.  Boswell  managed  to  rush 
his  party  into  the  hotel  unobserved,  but  they  had  no  sooner  set- 
tled there  than  the  mob  began  to  beat  at  the  door  and  demand 
admission.  This  was  denied  them,  and  they  were  stood  off  until 
the  train  came  up.  It  proved  to  be  a  freight,  but  Boswell  de- 
termined to  take  it. 

Now  was  the  trjing  time.  The  mob  had  congregated  on  the 
platform  between  the  hotel  and  the  railroad  track  and  was  so 
dense  that  it  looked  impossible  to  force  a  way  through  it.  But 
Boswell  w-as  equal  to  this  occasion  as  he  had  been  to  others. 
"Now  is  our  time,  boys,"  he  said,  and  thej^  prepared  to  move 
out.  He  had  procured  the  assistance  of  another  well  armed  and 
faithful  man,  and  he  placed  him  and  the  Missouri  sheriff  on 
either  side  of  the  arrested  murderers,  while  he  cocked  two 
revolvers,  holding  one  in  each  hand.  The  hotel  door  was  opened 
as  soon  as  the  train  stopped,  and  the  party  walked  outside.  They 
were  met  with  a  wild  yell,  and  then  became  apparent  a  disposi- 
tion to  move  upon  the  little  party.  Again  the  pistols  w-ere  lev- 
eled and  the  crowd  was  told  to  divide  so  as  to  make  a  passage. 
Slowly  it  rolled  into  two  walls  as  the  Red  sea  did  of  old.  The 
two  assistants  were  placed  in  front  while  Boswell  brought  up 
the  rear  with  his  pistols  in  hand,  and  they  passed  through  the 
jeering  and  swearing  crowd.  As  they  were  neariug  the  cars  a 
piece  of  cordwood  struck  Boswell  in  the  rear,  but  did  not  hurt 
him  badly.  Quick  as  thought  he  turned  his  back  to  the  cars  and 
fired  both  of  his  pistols  over  the  heads  of  the  crowd.  Such  a 
scattering  was  never  seen.  The  platform  covered  a  marshy 
piece  of  ground  and  all  around  was  a  shallow  pond.  Two-thirds 
of  the  gallant  two  hundred  were  sent  sprawling  into  the  water — 
presenting  a  scene  which  was  quite  sufficient  to  excite  Mr.  Bos- 
well's  idea  of  the  ridiculous,  notwithstanding  his  serious  sur- 
roundings. Adjoining  this  pond  was  a  cornfield,  and  through 
this  the  frightened  creatures  flew  like* Texas  steers. 

Tliere  were,  however,  still  a  few-  left,  and  they  seemed  more 


A  DESPERATE  RAILROAD  CONTRACTOR.  343 

disposed  to  fight  than  ever.  Kelly's  brother  jumped  upon  a 
fence  and  was  preparing  to  shoot  when  Boswell  leveled  upon 
him  and  brought  him  down  with  a  bullet  through  the  thigh, 
producing  a  jell  which  acted  as  a  potent  quietus  upon  the  crowd, 
and  the  battle  was  over. 

Some  of  the  roughs  made  an  effort  to  board  the  train,  on 
which  Kelly  had  been  placed  during  the  melee,  but  were  knocked 
off,  and '  soon  the  party  was  on  the  way  to  the  Bluffs.  The 
journey  was  without  incident. 

But  all  was  not  yet  over.  Kelly  was  so  badly  wounded 
that  it  was  found  impossible  to  proceed  further,  without  ab- 
solutely endangering  his  life.  He  was  placed  in  the  Council 
Bluffs  jail  and  a  physician  sent  for.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  it 
was  discovered  that,  although  the  ball  had  passed  entirely 
through  him,  he  had  hardly  bled  enough  to  color  his  shirt,  and 
the  doctor  stated  that  with  ordinary  care  and  rest  he  would 
soon  recover.  He  was  kept  in  the  jail  there  two  weeks  while 
the  physician  was  attending  him,  recovering  rapidly  all  the  time. 
Boswell  remained  close  with  his  prisoner  and  slept  with  him 
ever}^  night.  Not  aware  of  this  fact,  Kelly's  friends  came  one 
uiglit  in  force  and  began  an  effort  to  break  the  doors  of  the 
jail  down.  But  being  met  by  this  man  of  eternal  vigilance  and 
an  ugly  Winchester  rifle,  they  retired  in  some  disorder,  heaping 
imprecations  upon  his  head. 

The  next  assault  was  upon  Boswell's  cupidity,  and  consisted 
in  an  offer  of  |40,000  in  clean  cash  to  him  if  he  would  allow 
Kelly  to  escape.  But  this  was  met  as  all  other  efforts  of  a  dif- 
ferent character  had  been,  and  failed  of  its  object,  as  it  was 
refused,  though  Boswell  allowed  it  to  be  understood  that  prob- 
ably it  would  be  accepted,  thinking  that  he  might  the  more 
easily  get  his  prisoner  away  when  he  should  desire  to  remove 
liim. 

It  was  while  they  were  resting  in  this  doubt  as  to  ]?osweirs 
intention  that  he  stealthily  took  his  now  well-recovered  captive 
out  of  the  Council  Bluffs  jail  and  crossed  the  Missouri  river 
to  Omaha  on  his  way  to  Wyoming.  The  ruse  was,  soon  after 
the  departure,  discovered,  and  while  the  officer  was  at  Omaha 
another  effort  was  made  to  recapture  him.    This  was  a  well-laid 


;^44        ^  DESPERATE  RAILROAD  CONTRACTOR. 

plan  and  came  very  near  succeeding.  Boswell  bad  stopped  at 
llie  Cozzens  house  for  the  night,  and  Kelly  had  gone  to  bed.  A 
young  man  named  Day  had  been  employed  as  a  guard  while 
the  detective  was  out  making  arrangements  for  transportation. 
Kelly  suddenly  claimed  to  have  a  call  of  nature,  which  demanded 
that  he  should  retire  to  the  water  closet  in  the  back  yard.  Day 
stooped  down  to  get  the  prisoner's  boots  for  him,  and  as  he  did 
so,  Kelly  snatched  the  guard's  revolver  and  shot  him  through 
the  breast,  though,  fortunately,  not  dangerously.  A  struggle 
ensued  between  the  two  men  and  soon  a  large  crowed  of  the 
guests  of  the  house  came  to  the  rescue  of  the  guard  and  assisted 
him  to  disarm  the  now  thoroughly  enraged  criminal. 

Some  one  rushed  over  to  the  railroad  office  and  informed 
Boswell  of  what  was  transpiring.  Hurrying  back  to  the  hotel 
he  concluded  to  go  in  the  back  way  to  avoid  interference.  Then 
another  feature  of  the  plot  was  revealed.  A  carriage  stood 
backed  up  against  the  rear  fence  and  a  mob  of  forty  friends  of 
Kelly's  were  demanding  admission  to  the  hotel,  while  the  pro- 
prietor of  the  house,  a  courageous  old  man  named  Ramsey,  stood 
at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  up  which  they  sought  to  go,  brandish- 
ing an  old  saber  and  defying  them.  Boswell's  appearance  was 
sufficient  to  disperse  the  crowd,  as  his  character  had  already 
become  known  to  Kelly  and  his  friends.  Kelly  was  after  this 
episode  placed  in  jail. 

Boswell  feared  still  another  effort  at  rescue,  and  took  pre- 
cautions to  frustrate  it.  He  employed  a  railroad  man  named 
Tliomas  McCarthy  to  join  the  mob  and  keep  him  informed  of 
their  movements.  Through  this  means  he  discovered  that  a 
plot  had  been  set  on  foot  to  wreck  the  train  six  miles  out.  Ob- 
structions were  placed  on  the  track  at  a  point  where  the  train 
would  have  been  thrown  from  the  track  before  it  could  have 
been  stopped.  But  Mr.  Mead,  then  superintendent  of  the  Union 
Pacific,  sent  out  a  fiat  car  carrying  forty  armed  men,  who  re- 
moved the  obstructions  and  allowed  the  passenger  train  carrying 
Boswell  and  his  man  to  pass  without  further  molestation. 

The  seven  or  eight  hundred  miles  across  the  plains  to  Lara- 
mie City  were  traversed  without  incident,  and  the  desperado  was 


A  DESPERATE  RAILROAD  CONTRACTOR.  345 

lodged  at  last  iu  jail — another  feather  in  Mr.  Boswell's  cap  and 
that  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  detective  force. 

Let  it  be  said  to  the  shame  of  the  courts  that  after  all  this 
effort  to  capture  Kellj',  and  after  his  terrible  crime  had  become 
known  throughout  the  West,  he  was  allowed  to  go  scot  free, 
after  remaining  in  jail  a  few  months.  He  succeeded  in  buying 
off  the  witnesses  against  him  and  at  last  got  off,  though  at  a 
cost  of  not  less  than  |37,000. 

Of  course,  such  a  man  would  be  expected  to  die  with  his 
boots  on,  and  he  did,  having  been  shot  dead  some  years  ago  in 
Texas  while  in  a  row  there. 


DEALING  WITH  STEIKERS. 
CHAPTER  LI. 

GEN.  COOK  DEALS  OUT  JUSTICE  TO  BOTH  THE  STRIKERS  AND  THEIR 
EMPLOYERS— PREVENTS  BLOODSHED  AND  DESTRUCTION  AT 
LEADVILLE  BY  HIS  UNPREJUDICED  COURSE  IN  HANDLING  THE 
STRIKE— STRIKERS  CALL  ON  HIM  TO  SETTLE  THE  STRIKE— HE 
DOES   IT   IN  SHORT   ORDER. 

As  a  rule,  the  work  of  detectives  and  detective  associations 
during  strikes  has  been  such  as  to  incur  the  bitterest  hatred 
from  the  strikers,  and  in  nianv  cases  the  condemnation  of  all 
disinterested  citizens.  We  opine  that  this  has  been  caused  in 
the  main  by  the  various  associations  employing  for  strike  pur- 
poses the  very  worst  thugs  and  blacklegs  that  could  be  found — 
men  who  desired  to  see  a  strike  prolonged  indefinitely  that  they 
might  have  a  job,  and  men  who  would  not  hesitate  to  do  any- 
thing that  would  increase  the  bitterness  existing  between  the 
employers  and  the  employed. 

As  an  illustration  of  this  fact,  we  might  call  attention  to 
the  great  engineers'  strike  on  the  "Q."  several  years  ago.  Two 
or  three  engines  had  been  blown  up  and  much  other  damage 
had  been  done,  so  the  officials  of  the  company  were  led  to  be- 
lieve, by  the  strikers.  The  labor  unions  of  Denver  denied  this, 
and  to  completely  refute  the  charges  and  clear  themselves,  they 
resolved  to  employ  Gen.  I).  J.  Cook  and  the  Rocky  Mountain 
Detective  Association,  in  whom  they  had  implicit  confidence,  to 
ferret  out  the  real  criminals.  In  a  few  days  Gen.  Cook  was  able 
to  report  to  the  unions  that  they  were  right,  and  that  the 
deviltry  was  being  done  by  miscreants  in  no  way  connected  with 
the  strikers.  But  the  greatest  services  Gen.  Cook  and  the  asso- 
ciation have  ever  rendered  for  labor  unions  was  done  during 
the  great  Leadville  strike  in  June,  1880. 

How  they  saved  the  state  of  Colorado  from  eternal  disgrace, 
and  several  hundred  of  the  foremost  citizens  of  Leadville  from 


DEALING  WITH  STRIKERS.  347 

eternal  infamy,  by  nipping  in  the  bud  the  conspiracy  to  lynch 
six  of  the  leaders  of  the  Miners'  Union,  has  never  been  told; 
but  it  deserves  publication  as  one  of  the  most  brilliant  achieve- 
ments of  Gen.  Cook's  career. 

It  is  not  our  purpose  to  give  here  a  history  of  the  strike  in 
detail,  but  merely  to  relate  the  part  played  by  Gen.  Cook,  and 
some  of  his  most  trusted  lieutenants.  The  Miners'  Union,  con- 
sisting of  several  hundred  miners,  with  Michael  Mooney  at  their 
head,  had  declared  a  strike  about  the  last  of  May,  and  by  per- 
suasions and  threats  soon  had  nearly  every  miner  in  the  Lead- 
ville  district  out.  The  bitterness  increased  from  day  to  day, 
and  by  the  10th  of  June  the  excitement  had  risen  to  such  a 
pitch  that  nearly  everybody  in  the  city  had  arrayed  himself  with 
either  the  union  or  with  those  who  sympathized  with  the  mine 
owners. 

Leadville  was  in  a  condition  of  anarchy.  There  were  or- 
ganizations of  mine  owners  and  citizens,  and  organizations  of 
miners  which  were  intensely  hostile  to  each  other.  The  bum- 
mers of  the  city  had  attached  themselves  to  one  party  or  the 
other,  hoping  for  plunder.  It  was  generally  believed  that  a  vig- 
ilance committee  had  been  organized  to  deal  with  the  leaders  of 
the  strike.  It  was  known  that  mine  owners  had  received  notices 
from  unknown  sources  threatening  their  lives.  The  most  intel- 
ligent portion  of  the  community  believed  that  a  deadly  collision 
was  imminent. 

In  this  condition  of  affairs  the  sheriff  of  the  county  officially 
notified  the  governor  that  he  could  no  longer  preserve  the  peace, 
and  called  upon  him  to  declare  martial  law  as  the  only  means 
of  preventing  bloodshed.  Gov.  F.*  W.  Pitkin  at  once  responded 
by  ordering  Gen.  Cook  to  take  command,  at  the  same  time  de- 
claring the  city  and  county  under  martial  law,  which  step  was 
immediately  taken.  Gen.  Cook  at  once  summoned  ex-Sheriff 
Peter  Becker  and  Lieut.  Matt.  Hickman,  both  of  whom  are  now 
dead,  but  who  were  then  trusted  members  of  the  Rocky  Mount- 
ain Detective  Association,  together  with  two  other  members, 
and  detailed  them  to  circulate  through  all  the  crowds  and  obtain 
definite  information  as  to  what  the  "Committee  of  115"  was 
doing.     These  men  soon  discovered  that  there  was  a  plot  on  foot 


348  DEALING  WITH  STRIKERS. 

to  cause  the  arrest  of  Mooney  and  five  other  leaders  of  the  strik- 
ers, place  them  under  a  guard  of  militia  friendly  to  the  com- 
mittee, and  then  to  take  them  away  and  lynch  them. 

Gen.  Cook  at  once  conferred  with  Brig.  Gen.  James,  whom 
he  knew  to  be  opposed  to  the  proposed  lynching,  and  they  agreed 
that  at  least  half  of  the  militia  could  not  be  trusted  in  the  mat- 
ter. Gen.  Cook  then  directed  Gen.  James  to  choose  three  com- 
panies that  were  all  right  to  scour  the  town  and  arrest  every 
suspicious  party.  Gen.  James  chose  about  300  out  of  the  600 
men  in  the  command,  taking  only  the  companies  that  he  felt 
could  be  relied  upon,  but  a  large  number  of  whose  members,  as 
the  detectives  found  out,  w^ere  members  of  the  committee  of 
safety  themselves!  They  went  on  duty  at  8  o'clock,  but  as  a 
matter  of  course,  they  failed  to  find  any  riotous  assemblages. 
After  midnight  Gen.  Cook's  detectives  reported  these  facts  to 
him,  adding  that  the  mob  was  only  waiting  for  him  to  retire, 
when  they  would  have  their  victims  j)laced  under  arrest,  and 
placed  in  charge  of  militiamen  w^ho  were  in  full  sympathy  with 
the  mob.  Then,  of  course,  they  were  to  be  taken  after  a  slight 
show  of  resistance  and  hanged.  As  soon  as  Gen.  Cook  found 
that  he  could  not  depend  upon  the  other  men,  he  sent  for  Capt. 
Murphy  and  Lieut.  Duggan,  of  the  Tabor  Tigers,  a  company 
formed  principally  of  sporting  men,  who  were  opposed  to  hang- 
ing on  general  principles,  arguing  that  it  was  something  that 
might  happen  to  anybody.  On  being  questioned  as  to  whether 
their  men  could  be  trusted  to  round  up  the  "stranglers"  or  not. 
Murphy  replied:  ''Now  you're  shoutin'.      If  there's  anything  in 

* 

the  world  these  boys  are  dead  sore  on,  it's  stranglers."  Gen. 
Cook  at  once  ordered  the  company  to  report  at  his  headquarters, 
on  the  double-quick,  and  upon  their  arrival  directed  Capt.  Mur- 
phy to  divide  them  into  small  squads  and  at  once  scour  the 
town,  arresting  any  group  of  three  or  more  men  they  might  find, 
no  matter,  militiamen  or  civilians.  The  men  departed  in  all 
directions  with  a  whoop,  and  in  less  than  an  hour  the  detectives 
reported  to  Gen.  Cook  that  he  could  go  to  bed  without  the  least 
fear  of  any  more  trouble,  nor  was  there  any. 

As  soon  as  the  "Committee  of  115"  found  that  Gen.  Cook 
had  detected  their  conspiracy,  thoy  knew  in  a  minute   that    the 


DEALING  WITH  STRIKERS.  0,49 

"stuff  was  off,"  and  the  idea  of  lynching  the  strike  leaders  was 
given  up.  Gen.  Cook  soon  convinced  everybody  that  he  had  no 
entangling  alliances  with  either  mine  owners,  citizens  or  miners. 
He  went  under  instructions  to  protect  all  classes  from  violence 
and  to  prevent  bloodshed.  His  actions  were  so  impartial  and 
his  protection -to  the  communitj^  was  so  complete,  that  when  on 
the  third  day  after  martial  law  was  declared,  the  governor  pro- 
posed to  revoke  the  order,  every  class  of  the  community  appealed 
to  him  to  continue  the  order  in  force.  More  than  a  hundred  of 
the  citizens  telegraphed  imploring  him  to  continue  the  protec- 
tion for  a  few  days  longer.  A  majority  of  the  city  council,  with 
the  city  treasurer,  city  'clerk  and  city  marshal,  united  in  the 
same  request.     The  Miners'  Union  sent  him  this  dispatch: 

"Leadville,  Colorado,  June  17. 
"Governor  F.  W.  Pitkin: 

"We  request  you  to  leave  the  matter  of  military  law  in 
this  county  in  the  hands  of  Major  General  Cook.  It  is  for  the 
best  interest  of  all  concerned. 

"JAMES    T.    BLACK, 

"Secretary  pro  tern. 
"P.    J.    LAWLESS, 
"TIM    GOODWIN, 
"JOHN    CRELLY, 
"Vice  Presidents,  Union." 

Thus  was  the  danger  averted.  Dave  Cook's  cool  head  and 
strong  determination  had  prevented  the  riot,  and  ruin,  and  blood- 
shed that  must  certainly  have  followed  the  lynching  of  the  strike 
leaders  by  the  infuriated  citizens'  committee.  He  had  won  the 
respect  of  all  classes,  and  the  Miners'  Union,  seeing  that  their 
cause  was  already  lost,  appealed  to  him  to  devise  some  means 
of  settling  the  strike.  He  consented,  and  in  a  few  hours  had 
arranged  a  conference  between  the  miners  and  their  employers, 
at  which  their  differences  were  satisfactorily  adjusted,  and  the 
great  strike  was  over. 

When  Gen.  Cook  was  first  appointed  to  the  command  of  the 
military  forces  around  Leadville,  a  local  paper,  the  Carbonate 
Chronicle,  said,  editorially: 

"The  man  whom  Gov.  I'itkin  has  selected  to  take  command 


350  DEALING  WITH  STRIKERS. 

of  the  state  forces  in  this  county  during  the  reign  of  martial 
law,  needs  no  introduction  to  any  Coloradoan.  Sheriff  of  the 
capital  county  for  years,  he  became  the  best  known  and  most 
prominent  official  in  the  state  by  reason  of  his  able  administra- 
tion of  his  duties,  his  wonderful  detective  achievements,  and  the 
fact  that  his  arrests  were  made  in  every  quarter.  For  the  past 
ten  or  fifteen  years  criminals  have  felt  that  if  Dave  Cook  was 
on  their  trail  their  escape  was  hopeless  and  their  fears  have 
proven  well  founded. 

"As  an  executive  officer.  Gen.  Cook  possesses  the  highest 
ability.  His  iron  will,  level  head  and  perfect  coolness  mark  him 
as  the  one  man  for  chief  in  this  emergency.  No  matter  where 
you  see  him — at  table,  desk,  on  promenade,  in  the  saddle,  con- 
fronting Utes  or  criminals — he  is  the  same  calm,  quiet,  nervy 
man. 

''The  memorable  ride  over  the  range  into  Middle  Park,  and 
prompt  action  in  the  Ute  campaign  of  last  summer,  have  passed 
into  history,  and  Gen.  Cook  will  ever  be  remembered  with  deep- 
est gratitude  by  the  settlers  whom  he  succored  so  quickly. 

''Leadville  may  well  congratulate  herself  that  the  presence 
of  such  a  man  has  been  secured  in  the  commander's  saddle  in 
this  most  trying  and  important  ordeal." 

Subsequent  events  proved  that  the  confidence  of  the  people 
in  Gen.  Cook's  ability  was  not  misplaced,  and  the  prompt  and 
decisive  settlement  of  the  troubles,  added  fresh  laurels  to  his 
fame  and  that  of  the  Rockv  Mountain  Detective  Association. 


A  VICTIM  OF  DRAAY  POKEK. 
CHAPTER  LII. 

AN  EXPRESS  MESSENGER  ROBS  A  TRAIN  IN  NEW  YORK  OF  THIRTY- 
SIX  HUNDRED  DOLLARS— HE  LOSES  AT  CARDS  AND  DRAWS  UPON 
THE  FUND  IN  HIS  KEEPING— OFF  FOR  THE  WEST— TRACED  TO 
DENVER  AND  THEN  TO  SANTA  FE  BY  DETECTIVE  ARNOLD  OF 
THE  ROCKY  MOUNTAIN  DETECTIVE  ASSOCIATION- ONLY  TOO 
GLAD  TO  GET  AWAY— THE  ROBBER  ROBBED  IN  A  GAME  OF  POKER 
WITH  HIS  LANDLORD,  WHO  THEN  ATTEMPTS  TO  DETAIN  HIM 
FOR  HIS  BOARD  BILL— BESEIGED  FOR  A  NIGHT— JOE  ARNOLD  AS 
AN   ARTFUL   DODGER. 

John  A.  Bemis  is  the  name  of  a  young  man  who  must  figure 
in  this  narrative  because  of  his  wealiness — because  he  allowed 
himself  to  fall  into  bad  habits  when  he  was  entrusted  with 
money  belonging  to  other  people.  When  the  crime  was  com- 
mitted in  the  summer  of  1877,  Bemis  was,  and  is  yet  if  he  is 
still  living,  a  young  man  of  good  family.  His  people  resided  in 
Syracuse,  N.  Y.,  whence  Bemis  started  out  on  one  of  the  Xew 
York  railroads  as  an  agent  for  the  American  Express  company, 
running  into  New  York.  As  agent  for  a  big  carrying  enterprise 
running  into  the  nation's  financial  metropolis,  he  became  the 
custodian  of  large  sums  of  money,  often  carrying  a  million  dol- 
lars on  a  single  trip.  He  was  implicitly  trusted  by  the  com- 
pany, being  a  young  man  whose  life  was  supposed  to  be  sin- 
gularly exemplary,  and  backed  by  family  connections  of  the  very 
highest  order.  There  were  many  times  that  he  might  have  made 
a  big  haul  without  taking  more  than  the  ordinary  risk  which 
thieves  take.  But  he  seems  to  have  resisted  all  the  more  luring 
bait  which  was  thrown  out  to  him,  and  to  have  at  last  been 
tempted  by  a  comparatively  small  sum. 

As  was  learned  after  his  arrest  by  the  Rocky  Mountain  De- 
tective Association,  he  fell  into  loose  company  one  day  while 
carrying  f3,G00  for  his  company.     He  was  lured  into  a  game  of 


352  ^  VICTIM  OF  DRAW  POKER. 

peDiiy-ante  poker,  which  assumed,  before  the  game  was  finished, 
extensive  proportions.  Having  exhausted  his  own  pile,  and  feel- 
ing chagrined  at  being  beaten,  he  drew  upon  the  money  which 
he  held  in  trust.  He  did  not  draw  upon  the  pile  ver}'  extensively, 
but  sufficient!}'  to  create  a  deficit  which  he  was  unable  to  make 
good.  Finding  himself  in  a  corner,  fearing  to  explain  his  breach 
of  trust,  and  being  unable  to  supply  the  missing  sum  himself, 
he  decided  in  an  evil  moment  upon  flight,  and  also  concluded 
to  carry  the  residue  of  the  company's  money  in  his  possession 
with  him. 

This  decision  once  formed,  he  left  his  express  car  at  a  way 
station,  and  jumping  upon  a  train  coming  westward,  was  off  be- 
fore the  theft  was  discovered. 

The  company  was  thunderstruck  when  the  crime  was  dis- 
covered. The  New  York  papers  were  full  of  the  details  a  few 
days  afterwards,  and  the  wires  carried  the  report  to  all  sections 
of  the  country,  dwelling  upon  the  young  man's  family  connec- 
tions, the  trust  which  had  been  reposed  in  him,  and  filled  with 
surmises  as  to  what  could  have  induced  him  to  take  the  foolish 
step  which  he  had  taken.  Soon  followed  other  telegrams  and 
posters,  the  latter  carrying  portraits  of  the  young  fellow,  offer- 
ing a  reward  of  $800  for  his  apprehension.  The  express  company 
detennined  upon  close  jjursuit  and  the  capture  and  punishment 
of  the  defaulter,  not  because  they  did  not  respect  the  feelings  of 
his  family,  but  because  they  felt  that  he  should  be  made  an 
example  of.  Detectives  throughout  the  eastern  states  and  as 
far  west  as  the  Mississippi  river  were  put  to  work  on  the  case. 
They  sought  in  vain  for  the  fugitive.  He  was  not  to  be  found 
by  the  most  vigilant  of  the  officers  who  took  the  trail. 

A  month  after  the  robbery,  Gen.  Cook  received  a  letter  from 
Mr.  Fargo,  president  of  the  express  company,  giving  a  descrip- 
tion of  the  robber,  renewing  his  offer  of  a  reward  of  |800  for 
his  apprehension,  and  saying  there  were  reasons  to  believe  that 
Bemis  had  come  to  Denver.  The  principal  reason  urged  was 
that  Bemis  had  a  cousin  here,  whose  name  was  given. 

The  case  was  placed  in  the  hands  of  Detective  Arnold  by 
Gen.  Cook,  who  was  relied  upon  to  do  his  best  work  on  It.  Mr. 
Arnold  worked  a  long  time  without  a  clue.    The  hotel  registers 


A  VICTIM  OF  DRAW  POKER.  353 

for  a  month  back  were  scanned  with  the  keenest  scrutiny.  They 
were  dumb.  Not  a  shadow  of  a  clue  was  presented.  No  one 
going  by  the  name  of  Bemis  had  registered  at  any  of  the  hotels 
since  the  time  of  the  robbery.  The  cousin  was  sought  out  and 
skilfully  pumped.  He  knew  nothing,  or  professed  to  know  noth- 
ing, of  his  relative.  He  declared  that  the  young  man  had  not 
been  in  Denver  to  his  knowledge.  This  to  Mr.  Arnold.  But 
Arnold  soon  came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  was  not  the  best 
man  to  talk  with  the  cousin.  Arnold  is  one  of  the  men  who 
believe  that  there  are  more  ways  to  accomplish  a  purpose  than 
one.  He  made  himself  acquainted  with  the  associates  of  Bemis' 
€ousin  in  Denver  and  set  some  of  them  quietly  after  him.  Not 
onlv  the  man's  male  friends,  but  some  of  his  female  friends  were 
set  to  work.  This  ruse  was  at  last  successful.  The  cousin  at 
last  told  one  of  these  sub-detectives  that  his  cousin  had  been  in 
Denver;  that  while  here  he  had  gone  by  the  name  of  James 
Walker,  by  which  name  he  had  registered  at  the  American  house, 
but  that  he  had  taken  his  departure  some  time  previous.  The 
kinsman  professed  to  know  nothing  of  the  course  Bemis  had 
taken,  leaving  the  detectives  almost  as  much  in  the  dark  as 
they  were  before. 

Having  the  Denver  name  of  the  man,  they  were  enabled  to 
ascertain  something  of  his  conduct  while  in  Denver,  to  pick  up 
information  as  to  his  habits,  and  to  get  a  minute  description  of 
him.  They  found  that  he  had  been  "one  of  the  boys;"  inclined 
to  be  a  little  loose  and  reckless,  and  considerably  addicted  to 
card  playing.  While  still  looking  about  for  information  as  to 
the  direction  the  man  had  taken,  they  received  a  note  one  day 
from  Mr.  Nat  Hickman,  who  at  that  time  was  a  confidential  agent 
of  the  association,  dated  at  Santa  Fe,  N.  M.,  and  telling  them 
that  there  was  a  young  stranger  in  that  city  going  by  the  name 
of  John  L.  Jerome,  whose  actions  were  quite  mysterious.  Hick- 
man was  a  shrewd  observer  of  human  nature.  He  knew  of  no 
charges  against  the  man  concerning  whom  he  had  written  to 
headquarters,  but  merely  inferred  from  the  fellow's  conduct  that 
he  was  a  fugitive  from  justice,  and  considered  it  probable  that 
if  he  was  such.  Gen.  Cook  would  know  something  about  him. 


354  ^  VICTIM  OF  DRAW  POKER. 

After  reading  the  letter,  Mr.  Cook  handed  it  over  to  Mr.  Arnold, 
with  the  remark: 

"There's  yoMV  rnan." 

To  which  Arnold  replied,  more  forcibly  than  elegantly: 

"Bemis,  begad." 

After  taking  some  preliminary  steps,  such  as  the  procuring 
of  a  requisition  for  the  arrest  of  the  man,  Arnold  was  off  for 
Santa  Fe.  There  was  no  doubt  of  his  identity  after  getting 
Hickman's  description  of  the  party. 

In  those  days  a  trip  to  Santa  Fe  was  not  so  easily  made  as 
now.  Trains  ran  only  to  Trinidad,  in  Colorado,  rendering  it 
necessary  that  the  traveler  should  make  the  rest  of  the  journey 
of  over  two  hundred  miles  on  stage  coach,  which  was  not  a  very 
pleasant  undertaking,  considering  that  the  roads  were  bad;  that 
almost  the  entire  population  was  Mexican,  and  road  agents  were 
both  numerous  and  persistent.  But  these  were  obstacles  which 
did  not  stand  in  the  way  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  Detective  Asso- 
ciation. So  Mr.  Arnold  was  off  for  Santa  Fe,  the  ancient  capital 
of  New  Mexico,  in  search  of  John  A.  Bemis,  alias  James  Walker, 
alias  John  L.  Jerome. 

The  southward  trip  was  devoid  of  incident.  There  was  a 
long  and  hard  ride.  Santa  Fe  was  then  further  from  Denver, 
considering  the  time  necessary  for  the  trip,  than  Chicago,  and 
the  ride  was  a  far  more  trying  one.  But  Joe  Arnold  is  not 
vevj  delicate!}'  organized,  and  he  landed  in  Santa  Fe  "right  side 
up  with  care." 

Arriving  late  in  the  evening,  he  went  to  the  principal  hotel — 
the  Exchange — and  was  soon  in  possession  of  evidence  which 
made  it  absolutely  certain  that  the  John  L.  Jerome,  of  Santa  Fe, 
was  the  John  A.  Bemis,  of  Syracuse.  Arnold  had  registered  as 
"W.  F.  Smith,  Salt  Lake  City,"  that  his  arrival  might  create 
no  suspicion  in  Bemis'  mind  in  case  he  should  glance  over  the 
hotel  register. 

Being  sure  of  the  presence  of  his  man,  Mr.  Arnold  next 
went  to  work  to  find  the  governor,  and  to  get  him  to  honor  his 
requisition.  This  was  a  work  which  consumed  a  greater  part 
of  the  night  after  Arnold's  arrival,  and  morning  came  on  soon 
after  he  had  finished  the  preparation   for  the  arrest.     Having 


T.  JEFF.  CARR,  Cheyenne,  Wyoming. 


A  VICTIM  OF  DRAW  POKER.  355 

everyth'mg  in  readiness  to  spring  his  trap,  he  set  out  to  find  his 
game.  It  began  now  to  look  as  if  the  detective  had  had  all 
his  trouble  for  nothing.  He  waited  patientl}^  about  the  hotel 
for  Beniis  to  put  in  an  appearance.  He  watched  the  breakfast 
hall  carefully,  supposing  that  his  man  would  come  in  to  get 
something  to  eat.  Breakfast  finally  being  over,  Arnold  wan- 
dered about  the  town  during  the  forenoon,  with  the  hope  of  get- 
ting a  glimpse  of  his  man.  But  his  vigilance  was  not  rewarded 
by  the  least  trace  of  him.  He  was  not  to  be  seen  anywhere. 
Going  back  to  the  hotel  when  the  dinner  hour  approached,  he 
again  kept  close  watch  upon  the  dining  room.  This  time,  as 
before,  no  Bemis  made  his  appearance.  Arnold  was  beginning 
to  fear  that  the  fellow  had  sjjotted  him  and  given  him  the  slip. 
But  he  resolved  to  put  in  the  day  in  his  search.  Accordingly 
his  investigations  were  continued  during  the  afternoon.  But 
still  no  Bemis, 

The  supper  hour  had  come  on  and  had  nearly  parsed.  Arnold 
had  kept  an  eagle  eye  upon  the  room.  His  man  had  not  gone 
in.  Finally  he  w'andered  into  the  billiard  hall,  which  was  then 
but  dimly  lighted,  and  was  unoccupied  except  by  Arnold. 
Throwing  himself  down  in  a  chair,  the  detective  was  preparing 
for  a  little  meditative  spell  to  decide  what  course  to  pursue, 
when  a  footstep  fell  upon  his  ear.  Looking  up  he  saw  that  a 
man  had  entered  the  door,  opposite  him.  A  second  glance  told 
him  that  the  newcomer  was  none  other  than  Bemis.  Sitting 
still  until  the  stranger  approached  quite  close  to  him,  Arnold 
then  got  up  and  advanced  to  meet  the  man.  speaking  to  him 
when  he  had  approached  very  near  him : 

"Mr.  Bemis,  I  believe?'' 

The  man  did  not  appear  startled  or  especially  confused.  He 
seemed  to  have  been  expecting  to  be  overtaken. 

"Bemis — yes,  that's  ni}-  name,  and  you  are  an  officer  come 
for  me?" 

Mr.  Arnold  told  him  that  he  had  made  a  very  good  guess. 

"I  knew  it.     I  am  glad  of  it.    I  am  ready  and  anxious  to 

go  with  you.    I  want  to  get  out  of  this  hole,  and  I  am  tired  of 

skulking  about.    I  would  rather  a  thousand  times  over  go  back 

home  and  meet  all  my  old-time  friends,  explain  all  to  them  and 

12 


356  -^  VICTIM  OF  DRAW  POKER. 

go  to  prison,  than  to  go  hiding  about  the  country  all  my  life.  I 
could  not  stand  it  much  longer.  So  I  am  glad  that  you  have 
come.    You  need  fear  no  resistance  from  me." 

Arnold  took  his  prisoner  to  his  own  room,  where  the  fellow 
continued  his  talk  in  the  above  strain  for  some  time.  It  was 
not  long  before  the  detective  discovered  another  interesting 
feature  of  the  story.  In  answer  to  Arnold's  inquiries  as  to 
where  Bemis  had  been  during  the  day,  he  stated  that  when  he 
had  gone  to  Santa  Fe  he  still  retained  the  bulk  of  the  money 
which  he  had  stolen,  and  believing  that  he  had  found  a  place 
to  which  detective  vigilance  would  not  extend,  he  had  decided 
to  settle  down  and  go  into  business.  He  had  determined  to  buy 
a  cigar  store,  and  had  closed  the  contract,  nothing  remaining  to 
be  done  but  to  pay  over  the  money.  He  had,  soon  after  going 
to  his  hotel,  left  his  money  for  deposit  in  the  safe,  the  proprietor 
of  the  house  being  aware  of  the  amount  which  he  had.  This 
same  individual,  it  seems,  had  become  anxious  to  possess  the 
roll  himself,  and  while  he  was  not  courageous  enough  to  steal 
it  outright,  as  Bemis  had  done,  he  hit  upon  another  plan,  which 
was  just  as  effectual  and  far  more  safe.  He  had  discovered 
Bemis'  propensity  for  cards,  and  finding  that  the  money  was 
about  to  slip  out  of  his  grasp  into  the  hands  of  the  then  owner 
of  the  cigar  store,  he  proposed  to  Bemis  that  they  have  a  quiet 
game  of  poker. 

Nothing  was  more  to  the  liking  of  the  Syracuse  man.  He 
was  willing.  These  two  men  and  a  pair  of  accomplices  of  the 
hotel  proprietor  were  playing  poker  while  Arnold  w^as  getting 
his  requisition  papers  into  shape  on  the  night  of  his  arrival.  The 
game  at  first  ran  along  very  smoothly.  There  was  little  excite- 
ment for  a  long  while.  There  was  plenty  to  drink,  and  there 
was  a  supply  of  good  cigars.  The  game  appeared  to  be  purely 
social.  The  bets  were  small.  There  was  a  general  good  time, 
and  the  entire  crowd  appeared  to  be  quite  "mellow"  when  the 
wee  sma'  hours  came  on.  It  was  not  a  matter  of  appearance 
with  Bemis.  He  drank  too  much.  Finding  the  young  man  in 
good  shape,  his  ''friends"  began  to  tighten  the  screws.  They 
had  determined  to  get  his  money  before  the  night  should  pass, 


A  VICTIM  OP  DRAW  POKER.  357 

and  about  2  o'clock  in  the  morning  prepared  to  put  their  pU\ns 
into  execution. 

It  was  the  landlord's  deal.  As  he  pushed  out  the  ante, 
one  of  his  accomplices  said  to  Bemis: 

"Go  a  dollar  blind." 

''AH  right,"  said  the  now  thoroughh-  excited  young  man, 
and  shoved  out  the  chip  representing  that  amount. 

The  cards  were  dealt  slowly.  The  first  that  fell  to  Bemis 
was  an  ace,  and  a  gleam  of  gratification  passed  over  his  face. 
His  countenance  fell  as  a  ten  followed,  but  when  another  ten, 
and  another,  dropped,  it  was  easily  seen  how  much  pleasure 
he  took  in  the  contemplation  of  the  little  pieces  of  cardboard. 
The  landlord  saw  the  blind  and  raised  it  five  dollars.  Bemis 
followed  with  a  raise  of  ten  dollars,  which  was  promptly  re- 
sponded to  by  a  raise  of  a  like  sum  on  the  part  of  the  landlord. 
Bemis  raised  it  twenty  dollars,  and  the  landlord  simply  covered 
the  raise. 

''I'll  take  two  cards,"  said  Bemis. 

"That's  about  what  I  want,  myself,"  responded  the  landlord. 

The  cards  were  dealt,  and  after  a  careless  glance  at  the  draw, 
Bemis  laid  his  hand  down  on  the  table  and  bet  fifty  dollars. 

"I'll  raise  you  fifty,"  was  the  response. 

"That  lets  me  out,"  said  one  of  the  other  players. 

"Here,  too,"  said  the  second  accomplice. 

"See  your  fifty  and  go  a  hundred  better,"  exclaimed  Bemis. 

"We'll  play  for  two  hundred,"  exclaimed  the  landlord. 

Bemis  was  now  thoroughly  excited,  and  the  bystanders,  ac- 
customed as  they  were  to  high  play,  began  to  draw  nearer  to  the 
contestants,  and  display  an  unusual  interest  in  the  game. 

"Will  you  stand  a  raise?"  asked  Bemis,  with  an  air  of  con- 
fident good  humor. 

"Try  it  and  find  out,"  replied  the  landlord,  while  a  close 
observer  could  not  have  failed  to  note  the  air  of  conscious  tri- 
umph in  his  manner,  so  outwardly  imperturbable. 

"I'll  raise  you  five  hundred  dollars,  then,"  said  Bemis. 

"I'll  go  you  another  five  hundred,"  was  the  answer. 

"See  here,"  said  Bemis;  "I've  got  the  boss  hand,  but  I  don't 
want  to  win  vour  monev.     I'll  raise  it  a  thousand  dollars." 


358  ^  VICTIM  OF  DRAW  POKER. 

"I'll  see  that  and  raise  it  another  thousand,"  came  in  the 
coolest  terms  from  his  antagonist;  but  immediately  added,  as  he 
remembered  the  fact  that  Bemis'  bets  now  covered  nearly  all 
his  capital:  '*No,  I  won't  either.  It  would  be  robbery  to  keep 
on  betting  with  you.     I'll^st  call  you." 

"Four  TensT'  called  Bemis,  stretching  out  his  hand  to  take 
in  the  stakes,  with  a  smile. 

"Hold  on  a  minute,"  exclaimed  the  landlord.  "That's  a 
boss  hand,  ordinarily,  but  it  don't  win  this  time;"  and  he  laid 
down  four  kings. 

"Four  Kings!"  exclaimed  Bemis.     "My  God!" 

Thus  Bemis,  a  fugitive  from  justice  and  a  long  way  from 
home,  was  "dead  broke."  The  game  was,vabruptly  ended.  He 
had  no  more  money,  could  borrow  none,  and  must  quit.  He 
wandered  out  into  the  dark  shadows  of  the  adobe  houses,  and 
the  thoughts  which  came  to  him  were  quite  strong  enough  to 
sober  him  off.  Here  was,  indeed,  a  pretty  kettle  of  fish,  and 
Bemis  told  Arnold  that  so  great  was  his  anguish  that  he  had 
almost  determined  to  free  himself  from  it  by  committing  suicide. 
Better  counsel,  however,  prevailed,  and  he  decided  not  only  not 
to  take  his  own  life,  but  to  make;  an  effort  to  get  back  home, 
and  when  once  arrived  there,  to  surrender  himself  to  the  au- 
thorities. 

He  went  to  the  hotel  determined  to  go  to  bed  and  try  to 
sleep  the  remainder  of  the  night.  But  he  was  met  at  the  counter 
by  a  refusal  on  the  part  of  the  clerk  to  turn  over  the  keys  of  his 
room.  He  was  then  informed  that  he  had  not  paid  his  bill,  and 
that  as  he  Iiad  no  money  he  could  get  no  further  accommodations 
there.  Thus  was  he  robbed  and  turned  loose  penniless  and  to 
be  persecuted  by  the  man  who  had  robbed  him.  He  spent  the 
remainder  of  the  night  walking  about  and  thinking  over  his  situ- 
ation. He  had  not  gone  to  the  hotel  for  breakfast,  because  he 
had  been  forbidden  to  again  enter  the  house.  For  the  same 
reason  he  had  gone  without  his  dinner;  but  finding  himself  very 
hungry  when  supper  time  came  on,  he  had  decided  to  make  an 
effort  to  steal  in  and  get  something  to  eat.  This  resolve  he  was 
trying  to  put  into  execution  when  he  met  Arnold  and  was  ar- 
rested. 


A  VICTIM  OF  DRAW  POKER.  359 

The  fellow  was  really  suffering  from  a  fear  that  his  life  was 
not  safe.  In  those  days  they  could  arrest  and  imprison  a  man 
for  debt  in  New  Mexico.  He  was  satisfied  that  his  late  "host" 
would  be  only  too  glad  to  dispose  of  him  in  that  way  to  get  his 
mouth  closed,  and  so  informed  Arnold. 

Of  course  the  officer  promised  every  protection,  and  the 
promise  had  hardly  been  made  before  he  was  afforded  an  oppor- 
tunity to  fulfill  it.  The  door  of  the  room  had  been  locked  by 
the  officer  when  he  had  entered  with  his  prisoner.  The  story 
above  related  had  hardly  been  finished  when  there  came  a  loud 
rap  on  the  door,  in  resi)onse  to  which  Arnold  demanded  to  know 
who  was  there. 

''The  proprietor  of  the  house,"  was  the  response. 

''What  do  you  want?" 

"I  want  Jerome,"  giving  the  name  by  which  Bemis  had  gone 
in  Santa  Fe. 

"Well,  you  can't  have  him." 

A  long  parley  ensued,  but  Arnold  steadfastly  declined  to 
allow  the  hotel  man  to  enter  or  to  surrender  Bemis  to  him.  The 
fellow  went  away  swearing  vengeance.  When  he  was  well  gone, 
Arnold  began  barring  the  door  more  securely  than  had  been 
done  before,  and  handing  Bemis  a  pistol,  told  him  to  defend  him- 
self with  it  in  case  it  should  become  necessary  for  him  to  do  so, 
saying  as  he  did  so: 

"He  will  come  back  with  reinforcements,  and  if  they  get 
you  I  would  not  give  much  for  your  hide." 

Sure  enough,  the  man  did  return,  and  with  a  body  of  men. 
They  began  to  pound  upon  the  door,  but  were  met  by  Arnold 
with  the  assurance  that  the  first  man  that  entered  would  be  shot 
down  in  his  tracks.  This  defiance  had  the  effect  of  cooling  the 
ardor  of  the  besiegers.  They  remained  about  the  door  all  night, 
however,  so  that  Arnold  and  Bemis  were  compelled  to  remain 
awake  with  their  weapons  in  hand  during  the  long  night  that 
followed,  for  it  was  a  long  night  to  both  of  them.  Both  had 
been  exposed  to  great  hardships  and  were  fatigued.  Arnold  had 
been  a  night  in  the  stage  coming  down.  The  next  night  he  had 
devoted  to  his  papers.      Bemis'  experience  has  been  described. 


300  ^  VICTIM  OF  DRAW  POKER. 

But  they  had  another  night  before  them,  and  nothing  was  left 
to  them  but  to  make  the  best  of  it. 

At  last  morning  came.  The  stage  was  to  start  a  6  o'clock. 
The}'  must  get  off  on  that  stage  or  all  was  lost.  Accordingly  a 
few  minutes  before  6  the  two  men  unbarred  the  door  of  their 
prison  and  walked  out  with  their  pistols  in  their  hands. 

The  besiegers  had  disappeared.  The  stage  was  in  waiting^ 
near  the  hotel.  Arnold  and  his  prisoner  jumped  in.  As  they 
did  so,  the  landlord  came  up,  and  as  he  demanded  his  pay,  struck 
at  Bemis. 

The  stage  driver  had  seen  the  row  coming  on,  and  having^ 
exclaimed,  '^ Jerusalem!  it's  after  6,  and  I  am  off!''  had  made  a 
sudden  start,  which  left  the  irate  poker  player  standing  alone^ 
while  Arnold  and  his  prisoner  were  off  for  Denver. 

This  was  a  triumph,  to  be  sure,  but  all  was  not  yet  over. 
The  stage  passed  rapidly  on  to  Las  Vegas  without  incident. 
Arriving  at  that  place  it  was  stopped  by  a  well-armed  Mexican^ 

* 

who  was  followed  by  a  dozen  determined  looking  fellows,  all 
evidently  well  heeled.  Arnold  had  taken  a  seat  by  the  driver's 
side.  The  Mexican  stated  that  he  was  the  sheriff  of  the  county, 
and  said  he  had  received  a  dispatch  from  Santa  Fe,  directing^ 
him  to  arrest  one  John  Jerome,  who  was  on  the  stage  in  charge 
of  an  officer  named  Smith,  from  Salt  Lake  City,  on  a  capias. 
Arnold  at  once  came  to  the  front,  and  making  himself  spokes- 
man for  the  stage  partly  passed  the  question  around  to  every  pas- 
senger on  the  coach: 

"Is  your  name  Smith?''  "Your  name  Jerome?"  etc. 

All  answered  no.  "Must  be  a  mistake,"  said  Joe.  "My 
name  is  Arnold;  I  am  an  officer  from  Denver,  and  I  have  a  pris- 
oner here  named  Bemis,  but  of  course  we  are  not  the  people 
you  want."  He  then  showed  his  papers,  which  confiniied  his 
statement. 

"Oh,  naw,"  replied  the  sheriff"  in  broken  English;  "ve  vant 
Smeet — no  vant  you." 

Mr.  Arnold  then  volunteered  the  infonnation  that  he  had 
heard  in  Santa  Fe  of  some  trouble  of  the  character  described 
about  a  prisoner,  but  thought  it  probable  that  the  fellow  had 
evaded  the  officers  and  would  be  along  on  the  next  coach,  which 


A  VICTIM  OF  DRAW  POKER.  3f}| 

the  sheriff  also  considered  a  phuisible  theory,  and  allowed  Arnold 
and  Bemis  to  pass  on.  The  reader  will  see  that  the  wrong 
names  had  been  telegraphed.  The  Santa  Fe  officials  had  con- 
sulted the  hotel  register  and  not  the  territorial  books  for  the 
names. 

At  Cimarron,  the  next  station  of  importance,  Arnold  ex- 
pected to  have  trouble,  and  determined  to  avoid  it  this  time  by 
not  meeting  it.  Consequently  he  bought  a  quart  bottle  of 
whisky  at  Kayada,  a  few  miles  south  of  Cimarron,  and  present- 
ing it  to  the  driver,  got  off  the  coach  with  Bemis  before  the 
town  was  reached,  requesting  the  driver  in  case  they  were  asked 
for  to  state  that  they  had  left  the  coach,  and  promising  to  join 
the  stage  after  the  town  should  be  passed.  The  Jehu  promised 
compliance,  but  there  was  no  demand  for  either  the  officer  or 
his  man.  They  jumped  the  coach  per  agreement,  and  were 
landed  in  Trinidad  without  further  incident. 

Bemis  was  sent  back  to  Syracuse,  where  he  pleaded  guilty 
and  threw  himself  upon  the  mercy  of  the  court.  Even  the  ex- 
press company  officials  pleaded  for  clemency.  Hence  he  was  let 
off  with  a  sentence  of  but  eighteen  months  in  the  penitentiary. 
He  should  long  remember  Detective  Arnold  as  his  best  friend. 


A  HORSE  THIEF'S  FOLLY. 

CHAPTER  LIII. 

JOHN  DOEN,  A  DESERTER,  STEALS  A  HORSE  FROM  RUFUS  CLARK, 
NEAR  DENVER,  AND  GOES  TO  CHEYENNE— DETECTIVE  CARR 
NOTIFIED  BY  GEN.  COOK,  AND  BECOMES  A  PURCHASER  OF  THE 
STOLEN  ANIMAL,  ARRESTING  DOEN  AT  THE  SAME  TIME— THE 
PRISONER  ATTEMPTS  TO  ESCAPE  AND  IS  SHOT  DOWN  AFTER  A 
RUNNING   FIGHT. 

As  a  rule  officers  of  the  law  are  careful  of  the  lives  and  gen- 
eral safety  of  their  prisoners,  often  taking  great  risk  upon  them- 
selves to  protect  the  unfortunates  who  may  chance  to  fall  into 
their  hands.  Yet  they  are  occasionally  compelled  to  resort  to 
violence  to  protect  themselves  or  to  prevent  the  escape  of  crim- 
inals from  their  custody.  Sometimes  the  officer  brings  his  man 
down,  and  occasionally  death  is  the  result. 

A  man  giving  the  name  of  John  Doen  became  a  victim  to 
a  fate  of  this  kind  in  Cheyenne,  in  the  summer  of  1876.  Doen 
was  a  deserter  from  the  army,  who  had  for  several  years  been 
engaged  in  herding  cattle  on  the  plains,  and  he  had  accumulated 
some  cattle  of  his  own.  He  appears  to  have  been  naturally  pre- 
disposed to  rascality,  and  one  night  he  happened  along  by  the 
premises  of  Rufus  Clark,  residing  near  Denver,  and  seeing  a 
good  looking  horse,  he  laid  his  hands  upon  him  and  rode  him 
off.  Mr.  Clark  brought  the  information  of  the  disappearance  of 
the  animal  to  Detective  Cook,  and  asked  him  to  bring  the  skill 
of  his  association  to  bear  in  returning  the  animal  to  him.  He 
was  able  to  give  no  clue,  either  as  to  the  appearance  of  the  thief, 
or  the  route  he  had  taken.  After  brief  investigation  of  the  mat- 
ter. Gen.  Cook  decided  in  his  own  mind  that  the  horse  and  the 
thief  had  gone  in  the  direction  of  Cheyenne,  and  he  determined 
to  notify  his  assistant  superintendent  at  that  place,  Mr.  T.  Jeff 
Carr,  to  be  on  the  lookout  for  the  pair.  There  was  not  a  long 
waiting.     Carr  received  the  notification  at  9  o'clock  in  the  morn- 


A  HORSE  THIICF'S  FOLLY.  3(J5 

ing,  Jind  at  10  the  same  forenoon  the  thief  rode  into  town  with 
the  animal,  as  Carr  learned  by  a  visit  to  the  livery  stable  kept 
by  a  Mr.  Jeffrey.  Doen  had  jjut  the  horse  up  at  the  stable,  and 
had  stated  that  he  meant  to  have  him  sold  at  auction  that  after- 
noon. The  animal  answered  the  description  which  Cook  had 
sent,  to  perfection,  and  Carr  determined  to  lose  no  time  in  tak- 
ing possession  of  him  and  in  getting  the  thief.  Hence  he  pro- 
cured the  services  of  an  assistant  detective,  Mr.  Clark  Devoe, 
also  of  the  Kocky  Mountain  Association,  and  they  laid  a  plan  to 
capture  the  thief  at  the  same  time  that  they  should  take  the 
horse.  This  was  to  lure  Doen  to  the  stable,  and  this  project 
was  accomplished  by  getting  the  liveryman  to  send  for  Doen  and 
tell  him  that  there  was  a  man  who  wanted  to  buy  his  horse  im- 
mediately, and  that  it  would  be  well  for  him  to  repair  to  the 
stable  and  put  the  animal  up  for  sale. 

The  plan  worked.  Doen  soon  put  in  an  appearance.  He 
found  Carr  and  Devoe  awaiting  his  arrival.  The  animal  was 
accordingly  put  up,  and  a  mock  auction  was  gone  through  with. 
The  horse  was  knocked  down  to  Carr,  and  he  requested  a  bill 
of  sale,  which  was  made  out  and  signed  by  Doen,  giving  a  de- 
scription of  the  horse.     Having  procured  this,  Carr  said: 

"I  think  the  description  you  have  just  given  me  corresponds 
exactly  with  the  one  I  received  this  morning  of  a  horse  stolen 
from  Denver." 

Doen  seemed  confused,  and  his  confusion  increased  as  Carr 
read  the  description  from  Denver,  and  his  attempted  explana- 
tions were  a  series  of  contradictions.  Noticing  the  fellow's  em- 
barrassment, Devoe  stepped  up,  and,  laying  his  hand  upon 
Doen's  shoulder,  said : 

''I  guess  this  thing  has  gone  about  far  enough.  You  are 
in  possession  of  a  stolen  horse,  and  I  think  you  are  the  thief. 
I  arrest  you." 

Doen  made  no  resistance  and  said  nothing.  He  seemed  in- 
clined to  make  the  best  of  a  bad  job,  and  the  officers  began  to 
congratulate  themselves  that  they  had  disposed  of  a  disagreeable 
duty  with  but  little  trouble.  They  started  off  to  the  city  jail 
with  their  man,  and  were  proceeding  leisurely  along  Eddy  street, 
the   prisoner   being  some  eight  or  ten  feet  in  advance  of    them. 


366  -^  HORSE  THIEF'S  FOLLY. 

Having  gained  so  much  upon  the  detectives,  the  fellow  started 
to  run,  and  broke  out  suddenly  for  liberty.  The  officers  started 
in  pursuit,  crying  to  the  man  to  stop  or  be  shot.  But  he  paid 
no  heed  to  their  warning.  Two  shots  were  then  fired  into  the 
air  to  frighten  him  into  a  surrender,  but  they  had  no  more  effect 
than  the  volley  of  words.  Doen  only  ran  the  faster,  and  was 
gaining  upon  his  pursuers  all  the  time.  It  became  apparent 
that  he  was  in  a  fair  way  to  make  an  effectual  escape,  and  the 
officers  increased  their  speed.  Still  the  thief  kept  in  advance. 
When  he  reached  a  point  back  of  Kecreation  hall  he  placed  his 
hands  upon  a  high  board  fence  and  began  to  clamber  over. 
When  he  reached  the  top  of  the  fence  he  drew  a  pistol  and' 
leveled  it  at  the  officers.  "Shoot  him,"  said  Carr  to  Devoe.  The 
officer  sent  a  bullet  whizzing  through  the  air  just  as  the  fugitive 
fired.  Wlien  the  smoke  cleared  away  Doen  had  disappeared 
from  the  fence.  He  was  supposed  to  have  continued  his  flight, 
and  the  officers  had  begun  to  fear  that  they  had  lost  their  prize. 
But  in  this  supposition  they  were  mistaken.  When  they  came 
up  to  the  fence  they  heard  moans  on  the  opposite  side,  and 
glancing  over  saw  their  prisoner  lying  on  the  ground,  and  the 
blood  running  from  his  wounds.  He  still  held  his  pistol  firmly, 
and  showed  more  disposition  to  fight  than  ever. 
•    "Throw  away  your  pistol,"  said  Carr  to  him. 

"I  won't,"  was  the  reply.     "I  will  fight  to  the  last." 

"Throw  that  pistol  down,  I  tell  you,"  again  Carr  com- 
manded, as  he  drew  a  bead  on  the  fellow's  forehead.  "Will  you 
put  it  down  now?" 

The  thief  relinquished  the  weapon  reluctantly. 

While  Carr  was  examining  the  wounds,  Devoe  came  up,  and 
not  noticing  the  pistol  as  it  lay  on  the  ground,  stepped  upon  it 
and  caused  it  to  explode,  creating  a  report  which  startled  both 
prisoner  and  detectives  but  did  no  other  damage. 

Doen  was  taken  to  the  jail  and  his  wounds  examined.  They 
were  at  first  pronounced  not  necessarily  mortal,  but  a  closer 
examination  revealed  the  fact  that  the  bullet  had  entered  the 
small  of  the  back  and  passed  into  the  abdomen,  causing  internal 
hemorrhage,  which  resulted  in  death  about  ten  hours  after  the 
shooting. 


A  HORSE  THIEF'S  FOLLY.  357 

Before  he  died,  Doen  stated  that  he  was  a  native  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, and  that  his  real  name  was  Edward  W.  Myers.  He  made 
no  confession,  however,  and  continued  to  the  last  to  tell  con- 
flicting stories  about  the  affair.  He  was  a  desperate  man,  and 
would  undoubtedly  have  killed  the  officers  if  he  could  have  done 
so.      The  Cheyenne  Sun  the  next  morning  said: 

"The  unanimous  sentiment  of  the  communitv,  so  far  as  we 
are  able  to  learn,  is  that  Officer  Devoe  was  perfectly  justifiable, 
under  the  circumstances,  and  that  he  didn't  shoot  the  fellow  a 
minute  too  soon.  Nine  out  of  ten  men  would  not  have  exhibited 
half  the  leniency  that  these  officers  did  on  that  occasion.  This 
arrest  is  one  more  of  the  many  evidences  of  the  efficiency  of  the 
Rocky  Mountain  Detective  Association.  Within  ninety  minutes 
after  receiving  Sheriff  Cook's  letter  the  criminal  was  in  the 
county  jail.  Doen  is  said  to  be  a  deserter  from  the  regular 
army,  and  he  has  visited  Cheyenne  several  times  before,  and  al- 
ways as  a  dealer  in  horse  flesh.  That  he  belongs  to  a  regularly 
organized  band  of  horse  thieves  there  is  little  doubt." 


PUEBLO  VENGEANCE. 
CHAPTER  LIV. 

BILL  WHITE,  A  CANADA  CROOK,  AND  "HANDSOME"  LARNIGAN  ARRIVE 
IN  DENVER— A  HEAVY  ROBBERY  AT  THE  BROADWELL  HOUSE 
TRACED  TO  THEIR  DOORS  BY  GEN.  COOK— THEY  ESCAPE  JAIL 
AND  WHITE  LEAVES  FOR  PUEBLO,  WHERE  HE  ENGAGES  IN 
WHOLESALE  THIEVING. 

Bill  White's  caveer  iu  Colorado  was  biief.  It  was  cut  short 
hy  an  accident  which  he  could  not  control.  Bill  made  his  advent 
in  Denver  in  the  spring  of  1872,  and  he  might  have  been  here 
yet  it  he  had  behaved  himself  properly,  and  to  the  fact  that  he 
did  not  deport  himself  well  is  the  origin  of  the  pictures  herewith 
presented  due,  and  if  used  as  a  i)air  of  chromos  might  be  called, 
and  not  inaptly,  ''Before  and  After  Taking."  He  came  from 
Chicago  to  Denver,  but  was  originally  from  Montreal  and  was  a 
well  known  Canada  crook. 

A  great  many  of  the  Denver  people  were  away  from  home 
when  White  made  his  advent  into  our  societ3\  They  were  at- 
tending a  jollification  at  Pueblo  which  followed  the  completion 
of  the  Denver  and  Kio  Grande  road  to  that  point.  Many  of  the 
oflicers  were  absent,  and  White  conceived  it  an  excellent  oppor- 
tunity to  get  in  his  work.  He  had  come  to  Denver  from  Canada, 
and  was  accompanied  by  a  Kansas  City  man  named  Larnigan, 
who  was  known  throughout  the  Missouri  valley  as  "Handsome" 
Larnigan.  They  put  up  at  the  ]5roadwell  house,  a  hotel  kept  in 
what  is  now  known  simply  as  the  Broadwell  block,  on  Larimer 
street,  back  of  the  Tabor  block,  and  there  began  to  ply  their 
game.  White's  role  was  that  of  the  invalid.  He  put  plasters 
and  liver  pads  all  over  him,  and  affected  the  Camille  cough.  He 
was  a  man  of  good  ai)pearance,  and  never  had  the  least  difficulty 
in  winning  the  good  will  of  people  with  whom  he  came  in  cou- 
tacL  Hence  it  was  that  when  it  came  to  be  known  tluit,  on  the 
night   when    so   many    were   absent   at   Pueblo   on   pleasure,   a 


PUEBLO  VENGEANCE.  3(J9 

boai'dei-  at  the  hotel  had  been  robbed  of  a  very  fine  watch  val- 
ued at  |700  and  f'iOO  in  currency,  no  one  suspected  White,  until 
Gen.  D.  J.  Cook,  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  Detective  Agency,  was 
consulted,  and  had  spotted  him  and  Larnigan  as  the  thieves. 

When  the  case  was  put  in  Cook's  hands  he  went  to  work 
without  a  clue,  but  in  less  than  a  day  had  satisfied  himself  that 
the  guilt  lay  with  these  men.  He  accordingly  proceeded  to  ar- 
rest the  pair  and  to  lock  them  up.  But  they  had  observed  the 
attention  that  the  detective  was  paying  to  their  movements,  and 
had  "unloaded"  when  they  were  taken.  The  crime  could  not  be 
proved  against  them,  although  Gen.  Cook  was  satisfied  of  their 
guilt,  and  he  was  comj)elled  to  let  them  go.  He,  however, 
wai'ned  them  that  they  must  get  out  of  town.  "I  know  you  are 
crooks,"  he  said  to  them,  "and  although  I  have  failed  now,  it 
is  only  a  matter  of  time  when  I  shall  get  you  if  you  stay  here. 
So  you  had  better  skip."  They  were  liberated  after  this  warn- 
ing. White  concluded  to  take  Gen.  Cook's  advice  and  to  leave 
town,  but  Larnigan  remained  behind. 

White  went  from  Denver  to  Pueblo,  and  was  not  long  in 
justifying  Gen.  Cook's  prophesy  that  he  would  get  into  trouble. 
Arriving  in  Pueblo,  White  took  rooms  at  the  National,  the  best 
hotel  of  the  place,  and  was  soon  as  familiar  with  the  people 
there  as  he  had  been  with  those  in  Denver.  He  was  a  man  of 
slight  stature,  and  he  played  the  invalid  dodge  there  just  as  he 
had  done  in  Denver.  He  put  himself  on  good  terms  with  the 
ladies,  many  of  whom  about  the  hotel  had  been  anxious  to  do 
whatever  they  could  do  for  ''the  poor  fellow."  He  was  invited 
to  the  rooms  of  individuals  in  the  hotel,  and  in  fact  was  the 
pet  of  the  house.  Mr.  White  was  thought  to  be  anything  else 
besides  a  thief.  He  had  told  the  good  people  that  his  father 
had  been  a  minister  of  the  gospel  in  Canada,  and  he  carried  a 
gilt-edged  Bible,  the  parting  gift  of  his  dear  mother,  he  said. 

When  out  with  the  boys,  however.  White  was  a  very  dif- 
ferent sort  of  fellow.  He  was  one  of  them.  He  appeared  to 
be  of  a  very  affectionate  and  confiding  disposition,  but  the  most 
striking  peculiarity  about  the  young  man  was  that  he  always 
appeared  to  be  thoroughly  and  completely  drunk.  We  say  ap- 
peared to  be,  for  with  all  our  inquiries,  we  have  yet  to  find  the 


370 


PUEBLO  VENGEANCE. 


first  one  who  actually  saw  him  take  a  drink.  Be  this  as  it  may, 
to  the  outsider  the  young  man  went  to  bed  drunk  at  night,  and 
got  up  drunk  in  the  morning.  He  staggered  at  9  o'clock.  He 
clung  to  the  telegraph  pole  at  10  o'clock.  He  rolled  in  the  gut- 
ter at  12,  and  would  be  carted  off  to  his  room,  blubbering  mean- 
while to  tliose  who  towed  along  his  worthless  carcass,  and  tell- 
ing how  much  he  loved  them.  After  the  Pueblo  robber}-  it  was 
suspected  that  the  young  man  had  been  "playing  it  on  the  boj^s." 
It  was  then  believed  that  he  was  not  as  drunk  as  he  had  pre- 
tended to  be. 

One  morning  it  was  discovered  that  during  the  previous 
night  several  rooms  in  the  hotel  had  been  entered  and  robbed 
of  sums  of  money  ranging  all  the  way  from  five  cents  to  |300, 
and  of  numerous  watches  and  other  valuable  articles.  It  was 
ascertained  that  at  about  2  o'clock  the  niglit  previous  some 
audacious  thief  had  entered  a  bedroom  containing  two  beds,  in 
which  reposed  Gen.  R.  M.  Stevenson,  B.  C.  Leonard,  one  of 
the  proprietors  of  the  hotel,  George  Schick,  and  another  man 
sleeping  with  Stevenson,  whose  name  is  unknoAvn.  In  accord- 
ance with  the  usual  custom,  the  door  of  the  room  had  been  left 
unlocked,  and  the  burglar  had  an  easy  job,  going  through  the 
sleepers  in  detail.  Schick  upon  retiring  had  placed  his  clothes 
under  the  pillow.  In  his  pocket  ticked  a  gold  repeater  of  ex- 
quisite workmanship,  w^orth,  with  the  chain,  at  least  |300,  while 
in  the  fob  pocket  of  his  pantaloons  were  two  |100  bills.  When 
he  awoke  in  the  morning  he  found  his  clothes  precisely  as  he 
had  placed  them,  not  disturbed  in  the  least,  but  his  watch  and 
money  were  gone.  His  exclamation  of  surprise  awoke  the  others, 
and  they  commenced  searching  with  varying  results.  Leonard 
found  himself  out  a  five-cent  nickel  and  a  few  pool  checks.  Gen. 
Stevenson  missed  between  four  and  five  dollars  in  currency,  while 
his  room  mate  bewailed  the  loss  of  |15.  Messrs.  John  and  Cal. 
Peabody,  who  occupied  a  room  over  Jordan's  store,  in  the  Conley 
block,  were  the  next  victims.  The  door  of  their  room  was  locked, 
with  the  key  inside,  but  the  cracksmen  turned  this  by  means 
of  nippers  and  walked  in.  Cal's  pocketbook,  containing  |!142  in 
cash,  was  soon  rifled,  and  a  watch  and  chain,  belonging  to  John 
Peabody,  of  uo  great  value,  taken.     The  pocketbook  was  found 


PUEBLO  VENGEANCE.  37]^ 

on  the  street  corner  in  the  morning,  with  nothing  inside  but  a 
few  papers.  The  room  adjoining  Mr.  Peabody's  was  occupied 
bj  Mrs.  Snyder,  a  milliner,  and  the  thief  was  ungallant  enough 
to  enter  this  and  rob  the  slumbering  lady  of  her  gold  watch  and 
chain,  valued  at  $125.  Mr.  George  Perkins,  a  furniture  dealer, 
was  also  visited  and  robbed  of  a  watch  and  |300  in  money. 

Of  course,  the  town  was  in  an  uproar,  for  Pueblo  was  not 
then  so  pretentious  a  place  as  it  now  is,  and  it  did  not  take  so 
long  for  news  to  travel  all  over  the  city.  Officers  were  put  to 
work.  In  a  few  hours  the  fact  was  developed  that  White,  the 
poijular  invalid,  was  nowhere  to  be  found.  Zach  Allen — who 
has  since  been  killed,  poor  fellow! — was  then  sheriff  of  Pueblo 
county,  and  he  became  convinced  that  White  had  been  guilty 
of  the  robbery.  When  he  let  a  few  words  drop  to  that  effect 
the  announcement  was  met  with  loud  protestations  on  the  part 
of  the  ladies.  They  pooh-poohed  the  idea.  Yet  evidence  accumu- 
lated to  fasten  the  guilt  upon  White,  and  Allen  determined  to 
arrest  him.  But  where  to  find  him?  That  was  the  important 
question.  He  was  not  in  Pueblo;  that  was  certain.  Mr.  Allen 
decided  to  send  the  following  telegram: 

To  D.  J.  Cook,  Superintendent  Rocky  Mountain  Detective  Asso- 
ciation, Denver: 

Be  on  lookout  for  man  named  White,  who  has  stolen  watches 
and  other  valuables.    Has  a  friend  in  Denver  named  Larnigan. 
(Signed)  •     ALLEN,  Sheriff. 


CHAPTER  LV. 

WHITE'S  ESCAPE  TO  DENVER— ARRESTED  IN  A  GROGGERY  BY  GEN. 
COOK  AND  W.  A.  SMITH— A  DESPERATE  ENCOUNTER  WITH  A 
SMALL  MOB— TAKEN  BACK  TO  PUEBLO— STRUNG  UP  TO  A  TELE- 
GRAPH POLE  AND  LEFT  AS  A  WARNING  TO  THIEVES— DEATH  OF 
ONE  OF  THE  JAIL  GUARDS   FROM    HEART   DISEASE.    . 

The  telegram  (j noted  at  the  close  of  the  last  chapter  was- 
"nuts"  for  Cook,  lie  knew  his  man.  Taking  W.  A,  Smith — 
then  an  honored  member  and  assistant  superintendent  of  the- 
association — with  him,  they  started  out  in  their  search.  They 
learned  at  the  depot  that  a  freight  train  had  come  in  from  Pueblo 
an  hour  before,  and  that  it  carried  a  passenger  bearing  the  de- 
scription of  White.  They  had  from  the  first  kept  close  track  of 
Larnigan,  and  knew  his  haunts.  They  knew  further  that  White 
was  most  likely  to  join  his  pal  immediately  upon  his  arrival, 
in  Denver,  and  they  started  forthwith  to  search  for  them  both 
at  a  joint  ten-pin  alley  and  saloon  on  Holladay  street  kept  by 
one  Green,  which  Larnigan  was  known  to  frequent.  Thithei- 
they  went,  and  throwing  open  the  door  to  the  establishment 
suddenly,  they  walked  in.  Sure  enough,  there  stood  their  men- 
before  them.  The  room  contained  some  half  a  dozen  other  men, 
but  these  two  were  nearest  the  door,  and  they  were  engaged  in- 
earnest  conversation  when  the  officers  entered.  White  was  stand- 
ing with  his  back  to  the  door  which  Larnigan  was  facing.  Be- 
fore the  latter  had  had  time  to  notify  his  pal  of  the  entrance  of 
Hie  officers,  which  he  had  observed.  Cook  had  stepped  rapidly 
forward  and  laid  a  heavy  hand  upon  the  shoulder  of  TN'hite,. 
[)ulling  him  around  so  as  to  face  him. 

As  may  be  imagined,  a  s(;ene  followed.  Everybody  was^ 
astonished,  and  all  in  the  room  rushed  forward  to  the  assistance 
of  White.  The  officers  had  stirred  up  a  hornet's  nest.  All  was. 
buzz  and  bustle. 

"What  is  wanted?"  demanded  White. 

"Vou." 


PUEBLO  VENGEANCE.  375 

''Me?" 

''Yes.'' 

"Guess  you  are  mistaken;  I  am  uot  your  man." 

"We'll  see  about  that." 

"Where's  your  warrant?" 

Just  then  Larnlgan  jumped  forward  and  thrust  his  hand  into 
White's  pocket,  where  it  was  to  be  naturally  supposed  White 
carried  a  pistol. 

"Draw  on  him!"  said  Cook  to  Smith. 

Promptly  as  clockwork  out  came  Bill  Smitirs  revolver. 
"Shall  I  shooL  the  s of  a  b ?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  shoot  him  dead  if  he  makes  a  move." 

Cook  himself  wore  a  tight-lacing  military  jacket  at  that  time 
over  his  jpistol  pocket  and  was  delayed  in  getting  out  his  own 
gun.  The  crowd  was  disposed  to  take  advantage  of  this  state 
of  affairs  and  to  assist  W^hite  and  Larnigan  out  of  their  awkward 
predicament.  The  barkeeper  started  for  his  pistol  which  was 
lying  on  a  convenient  shelf,  and  the  crowd  rushed  forward  for 
the  purpose  of  cutting  off  the  retreat  of  the  officers  with  their 
prisoner.  Dave  Cook's  blood  was  thoroughly  aroused  at  this 
spectacle,  and  Bill  Smith  stood  with  teeth  set  as  if  to  defy  the 
entire  gang.  Still  holding  his  prisoner  with  his  right  hand, 
Dave  tore  his  coat  open  with  his  left,  sending  his  military  but- 
tons flying  with  a  bound  in  all  directions.  In  an  instant  the 
barkeeper  was  covered  by  Dave,  who  still  held  on  to  his  pris- 
oner with  his  right  hand.    The  crowd  was  still  in  an  instant. 

"Throw  up  your  hands!"  commanded  Gen.  Cook.  "Every 
one  of  you!" 

When  Dave  Cook  gives  a  command  under  such  circum- 
stances as  these,  those  who  hear  it  obey  it.  A  dozen  hands  flew 
instaneously  into  the  air.  The  victory  was  complete.  The  cap- 
ture was  made. 

"Now  search  him,"  he  said  to  Smith,  while  he  himself  held 
his  pistol  over  the  thoroughly  awed  crowd.  The  first  pocket 
into  which  Smith  thrust  his  hand  yielded  up  a  paid  of  burglar's 
nippers  and  five  stolen  watches. 

"Do  you  want  to  see  our  warrant  now?"  demanded  Cook. 


376  PUEBLO  VENGEANCE. 

"No,"  replied  White  quite  demurely,  "I  guess  you've  got 
proof  enough.  But,"  he  added,  ''don't  take  me  to  Pueblo;  they'll 
hang  me  sure." 

With  this  the  officers  marched  out  of  the  saloon  with  their 
prisoner,  and  he  was  soon  securely  locked  up  in  jail  and  all  the 
stolen  property  recovered  in  less  than  an  hour's  time  after  the 
first  information  of  the  Pueblo  burglaries  was  received. 

The  next  morning  Gen.  Cook  started  to  Pueblo  with  his 
prisoner,  who  was  greatly  frightened  at  the  idea  of  going  back 
to  face  the  wrath  of  those  whose  confidence  he  had  so  grossly 
abused. 

"They'll  hang  me;  they'll  hang  me.  I  know  they  will." 
Thus  he  pleaded. 

"Well,"  replied  Cook,  "you'll  doubtless  deserve  it.  Didn't 
I  tell  you  if  you  didn't  get  out  of  this  country,  and  keep  out,  I 
would  overtake  you?  Haven't  I  been  as  good  as  my  word? 
There  is  nothing  left  for  you  but  to  go  back  and  stand  trial. 
I'll  protect  you  while  you  are  in  my  keeping.  Of  that  you  may 
rest  assured." 

Engaged  in  such  conversation  as  this  they  journeyed  on 
down  the  narrow  gauge — then  the  baby  road,  indeed — to  Pueblo. 
They  met  only  a  slight  demonstration  there,  and  officer  and  pris- 
oner were  encouraged  to  believe  that  all  apprehensions  of  vio- 
lence had  been  unfounded.  White  was  turned  over  to  the  jailer 
and  was  locked  up.  No  unusual  demonstrations  were  made, 
and  after  remaining  at  the  x>rison  for  a  little  while  and  observ- 
ing that  all  was  quiet.  Gen.  Cook  withdrew. 

The  next  day  the  preliminary  examination  of  the  prisoner 
took  place  before  Justice  Hart,  and  resulted  in  his  being  bound 
over,  on  seven  separate  indictments,  for  burglary,  larceny,  etc., 
in  the  sum  of  $8,500,  to  appear  for  trial.  He  was  remanded  back 
to  jail. 

Gen.  Cook  was  detained  as  a  witness,  and  was  thus  com- 
pelled to  remain  over  two  nights  in  Pueblo. 

The  evening  of  the  second  night  he  spent  with  several 
friends,  including  Sheriff  Allen. 

He  was  absent  from  his  hotel  until  about  12  o'clock,  and 
was  just  returning  to  it  in  company  with  Allen,  when  the  some- 


PUEBLO  VENGEANCE.  377 

what  notorious  ''Hoodoo"  Brown  rushed  up,  with  the  exclama- 
tion: 

"There's  hell  to  paj^  at  the  jail!" 

Gathering  an  idea  of  the  situation  in  an  instant.  Cook  and 
Allen  were  off  for  the  jail.  That  institution  was  half  a  mile 
distant,  but  they  ran  every  step  of  the  way,  and  rushed  in  just 
in  time  to  find  one  of  the  guards  at  the  jail  untying  the  other. 

"Just  got  loose,"  he  muttered.  "They  came  in,  about 
twenty  of  'em,  with  guns  and  pistols,  overpowered  us,  took  us 
completely  by  surprise,  tied  us  here,  got  the  keys,  marched  into 
White's  room.  There  was  one  big  man  in  the  crowd.  He  looked 
seven  feet  high.  Why.  he  just  went  up  to  White — White's  a 
little  fellow,  you  know — and  he  seemed  to  be  moaning  and  cry- 
ing, and  he  just  picked  him  right  up — he  had  gone  to  bed — and 
said :  'Come  to  me  arms,  me  baby,'  and  carried  him  out,  his  bare 
feet  dangling  down  to  the  big  man's  knees.  Oh,  it  was  awful, 
sir.      I  guess  they  hung  him." 

Recovering  himself  somewhat,  the  speaker  explained  brietiy 
all  he  knew  about  the  transaction.  He  said  that  his  name  was 
Redfield.  and  that  he  was  the  jailer,  and  that  he  was  sleeping 
in  the  jail,  having  retired  about  10  o'clock  p.  m.  He  was 
iiwakened  by  the  assistant  jailer,  A.  W.  Briggs,  who  told  him 
there  was  a  mob  outside.  Redfield  went  to  the  door  and  asked, 
''Who's  there?"  when  a  voice  replied,  "Zach  Allen,  the  sheriff; 
let  us  in."  Not  doubting  but  that  the  voice  he  had  heard  was 
Mr.  Allen's,  and  supposing  that  he  had  a  prisoner,  Mr.  Redfield 
turned  the  key  of  the  door  and  opened  it,  when  a  number  of  men 
rushed  in  dressed  in  calico  and  masked,  and  in  a  moment  the 
jail  was  in  possession  of  the  mob.  Their  first  act  was  to  bind 
Redfield  and  his  assistant,  hand  and  foot;  leaving  them  gagged 
and  helpless  on  the  floor.  One  of  the  men  stooped  over  and 
hissed  in  the  ear  of  Briggs : 

''Lie  still  and  you  shan't  be  hurt,  but  give  the  alarm  and  111 
blow  your  brains  out  I" 

After  leaving  Redfied  and  Briggs,  the  mob  started  for 
White's  cell,  the  key  of  which  they  seemed  to  find  without  any 
trouble.  They  walked  White  out  with  his  shackles  on.  When 
the  miserable  man  reached  the  front  entrance,  and  fully  compre- 


378  PUEBLO  VENGEANCE. 

hended  the  terrible  fate  soon  to  be  visited  upon  him,  lie  turned 
around  and  desired  time  to  pray,  but  this  request  was  sternly 
denied.  He  was  picked  up  by  one  of  the  party  and  taken  out 
in  the  darkness,  the  stern  avengers  closed  around  him  in  a  solid 
mass,  the  word  "forward"  was  given,  and  that  was  the  last 
ever  seen  of  White  alive. 

The  officers  listened  to  this  narrative  with  imijatience,  and 
when  it  had  been  finished,  asked  to  know  the  way  the  mob  had 
gone.  The  man  jjointed  in  the  direction  of  a  telegraph  pole  a 
hundred  yards  away,  and  Cook  and  Allen  started  towards  it. 

The  sight  which  met  their  gaze  is  described  in  the  full-page 
cut  accompanying  this  chapter.  The  gentleman  who  hangs  limp 
from  the  telegraph  pole,  with  his  bare  toes  reaching  for  terra 
firma,  is  the  late  Mr.  White.  The  vigilantes  have  done  their 
work  and  have  departed.  They  are  nowhere  to  be  seen.  White 
is  gone  beyond  the  hope  of  recovery,  and  nothing  is  left  but  to 
cut  him  down  and  bury  him. 

But  White  was  not  unaccompanied  to  his  last  resting  place. 
His  jail  guard,  Briggs,  follow^ed  close  upon  his  heels.  He  had 
lived  to  confirm  Mr.  Redfield's  story  of  the  jail  delivery,  as  above 
related.  He  was  subject  to  heart  disease.  The  excitement  had 
been  too  much  for  him,  and  the  next  morning  he  fell  to  the  floor 
a  corpse. 

So  there  were  two  burials  in  Pueblo  the  next  day,  and 
people  said  of  one  death,  "It  was  deserved;"  of  the  other,  "It 
was  an  accident;  poor  fellow!"  Such,  in  brief,  were  the  public 
funeral  orations  passed  upon  the  two.  There  was  a  sigh  for  one. 
There  was  no  sigh  for  the  other.  So  passes  the  world  away. 
It  is  the  fortune  of  the  detective  to  see  death  as  well  as  life 
sharply  contrasted  at  times. 

When  Cook  returned  to  Denver  he  found  that  Larnigan  had 
disappeared.  He  had  received  the  news  from  Pueblo.  He  took 
the  hint  and  left,  and  has  never  since  been  seen  in  Colorado. 


THE  RETKIBUTION  OF  FATE. 

CHAPTER  LVI. 

THE  MURDER  OF  "CHEAP  JOHN"  IN  DENVER  IN  1866— GEN.  COOK 
HEARS  THE  MAN  FALL  AND  RUSHES  TO  HIS  RESCUE,  BUT  TOO 
LATE  TO  CATCH  THE  MURDERER— A  NIGHT'S  SEARCH  RESULTS 
IN  SOME  STARTLING  REVELATIONS— WHAT  A  PRYING  WOMAN 
HEARD  THROUGH  A  CRACK  IN  THE  WALL— ARREST  OF  GEORGE 
CORMAN— HIS  TRIAL  AND  ACQUITTAL— AFTERWARDS  BLOWN  TO 
ATOMS   IN   A  TUNNEL   NEAR   GEORGETOWN. 

The  murder  of  August  Gallinger,  alias  ''Cheap  John,"  cre- 
ated a  sensation  in  Denver  in  the  latter  part  of  the  year  1866, 
which  for  a  long  while  engaged  the  public  attention.  Mr.  Gal- 
linger kept  a  small  store  on  the  corner  of  Twelfth  and  Blake 
streets,  and  lived  alone  over  the  store  in  a  small  room.  He  had 
been  a  member  of  the  Third  Colorado  regiment,  enlisted  for  a 
hundred  days,  and  had  taken  part  in  the  Sand  Creek  fight.  He 
was  quite  popular,  and  although  a  street  peddler,  he  did  a 
thriving  business.  He  lived  in  plain  style,  and  was  supposed 
by  some  to  be  a  miser.  This  impression  it  was  which  led  to  his 
murder. 

The  assault  occurred  on  the  night  of  December  15,  1866. 
Gen.  Cook  had  been  elected  city  marshal  of  Denver  for  the  first 
time  a  few  months  previous.  On  the  night  of  the  occurrence 
he  was  passing  across  the  Blake  street  bridge  from  Denver  to 
West  Denver,  accompanied  b}^  another  officer.  They  were  walk- 
ing leisurely  along,  when  they  heard  something  fall,  creating  a 
loud  noise.  Cook  immediately  formed  the  conclusion  that  some- 
thing wrong  had  happened,  and  he  and  his  companion  started  in 
the  direction  of  the  point  from  which  the  noise  had  come,  and 
it  appeared  to  be  in  John's  house.  There  was  no  one  below, 
hence  the  officers  rushed  up  stairs.  It  was  about  9  o'clock  in 
the  evening,  and  as  there  were  no  artificial  lights  in  the  house, 
they  found  the  place  quite  dark.      As  they  went  up  .the  front 


382  '^^^^  RETRIBUTION  OF  FATE. 

steps  they  thought  they  heard  some  one  descending  the  rear 
steps,  but  as  they  at  that  time  did  not  know  what  had  happened, 
they  passed  on  into  John's  room,  and  did  not  pursue  the  party 
who  was  leaving  the  house. 

Reaching  Mr.  Gallinger's  room,  their  ears  were  greeted  by 
moans  from  a  man  sitting  on  a  lounge.  Gen.  Cook  went  up  to 
where  the  man — who  proved  to  be  Gallinger — sat  and  assisted 
him  to  his  feet,  demanding  to  know  what  had  occurred  and 
how  it  had  all  come  about.  He  found  Gallinger  covered  with 
blood,  and  when  the  officer  pulled  him  up  the  poor  fellow 
clutched  the  lappel  of  Cook's  coat  with  his  bloody  hands.  The 
blood  was  flowing  from  a  deep  wound  four  inches  long  in  the 
head.  When  questioned,  John  replied  in  German,  and  was  evi- 
dently demented.  But  it  did  not  require  any  speech  to  explain 
that  murder  had  been  attempted.  The  wound  was  of  a  nature 
that  precluded  the  possibility  of  suicide;  and,  besides,  the  instru- 
ment with  which  it  had  been  inflicted  was  nowhere  to  be  seen. 
It  was  evident  from  the  appearance  of  the  wound  that  it  had 
been  made  with  a  hatchet,  the  murderer  coming  upon  the  victim 
while  sitting,  and  striking  with  the  edge  of  the  tool.  Dr.  F.  J. 
Bancroft  was  summoned.  Upon  examination  he  found  that  the 
skull  had  been  seriously  fractured,  and  pronounced  the  wound 
necessarily  fatal.  It  may  as  well  be  stated  here,  as  elsewhere, 
that  the  doctor's  prediction  was  verified,  and  that  the  old  man 
died  a  week  afterwards.  He  was  never  conscious  after  the  night 
of  the  assault,  and  hence  could  throw  no  light  whatever  upon 
the  affair. 

Leaving  the  wounded  man  in  care  of  others.  Gen,  Cook  im- 
mediately began  a  search  for  the  murderer.  He  found  the  tracks 
of  a  man  leading  out  from  the  rear  of  the  building,  and  made 
an  exact  measurement  of  them.  He  also  found  a  woman  who 
stated  that  she  had  seen  a  man  go  out  of  the  building  at  the  rear 
at  about  the  time  of  the  attack,  but  she  had  not  been  able  to 
get  a  good  look  at  him  on  account  of  the  darkness,  and  thought 
she  would  be  unable  to  recognize  him. 

Here  was  a  dilemma.  A  crime  had  been  committed  only  a 
few  minutes  before,  but  the  criminal  seemed  to  have  escaped 
as  effectuallv  as  if  he  had  had  a  month's  start  of  the  officers. 


THE   KETRIBUTION  OF  FATE.  38;^ 

But  Cook  is  not  the  man  to  lose  time  in  hesitation.  He  spent 
the  night  in  searching  for  some  clue  which  would  lead  to  the  de- 
tection of  the  villain,  whoever  he  might  be. 

He  learned  enough  during  the  night  to  decide  him  in  a  de- 
termiation  to  raid  a  house  which  stood  near  by.  This  house 
was  occupied^  by  several  persons,  all  of  them  of  loose  character. 
Among  others  who  occupied  it  was  a  worthless  individual  named 
George  Gorman,  who  was  the  "solid  man"  of  another  inmate  of 
the  dwelling,  a  low  prostitute  called  Mrs.  Foster.  The  fellow 
did  not  work  for  a  living,  but  depended  upon  the  earnings  of  this 
woman  for  support.  He  was  known  to  be  none  to  good  to  steal, 
and  it  was  believed  that  he  would  commit  murder  if  there  was 
hope  of  reward.  Cook  knew  enough  about  this  man  to  lead 
him  to  believe  that  the  chances  were  good  for  his  being  the 
murderer  of  Cheap  John.  He  decided  to  investigate,  at  any  rate. 
Accordingly,  in  company  with  H.  B.  Haskell,  then  a  special 
officer  in  Denver,  he  repaired  to  the  Gorman  residence  early  in 
the  morning  succeeding  the  murderous  assault.  He  found  the 
front  of  the  building  occupied  by  Gorman  and  his  woman,  while 
in  the  rear  premises  resided  a  Mrs.  Mary  Kerwin  with  her  fam- 

The  officers  decided  to  investigate  while  the  inmates  of  the 
house  were  still  asleep.  They  entered  the  yard  by  a  back  en- 
trance, and  as  they  came  up  to  the  door  found  a  hatchet  lying 
upon  the  ground  thoroughly  besmeared  with  blood.  Here  was 
certainly  a  pointer — the  first  important  one  found — and  it  bid 
fair  to  lead  to  speedy  results.  The  officers  felt  that  they  had 
made  a  big  discovery,  and  without  further  ado  walked  into  the 
house,  where  they  met  Mrs.  Kerwin.  of  whom  they  demanded  to 
know  the  name  of  the  owner  of  the  hatchet.  Her  reply  was  that 
it  was  the  property  of  Gorman. 

Gorman  and  the  Foster  woman  were  next  approached.  They 
did  not  deny  the  ownership  of  the  hatchet. 

"Where  did  this  blood  come  from?''  demanded  Cook. 

The  woman  became  the  spokesman.  "I  killed  a  chicken  last 
night,"  she  said,  "and  cut  its  head  off  with  the  hatchet." 

"Chicken!  chicken!"  replied  Cook.      "Chickens  are  worth  a 


384  THE   RETRIBUTION  OF  FATE. 

dollar  and  a  half  apiece  in  this  country  now,  and  I  know  you 
can't  afford  chickens.      Sowbelly  is  good  enough  for  you." 

The  woman  replied  that  she  put  on  style  occasionally  her- 
self. 

When  Cook  asked  where  the  feathers  were  she  declared  that 
the}'  had  been  thrown  into  the  privy  vault,  while  the  bones  had 
been  burned  in  the  stove. 

A  close  search  of  the  vault  and  of  the  ashes  in  the  stove 
failed  to  reveal  any  trace  of  the  remains  of  the  alleged  chicken. 
Here  were  other  strong  pointers.  The  arrest  of  Gorman  was 
decided  upon.  There  seemed  to  be  a  pretty  fair  case  against 
him  already  developed,  and  Mr.  Cook  had  confidence  in  finding 
a  great  deal  more  testimony.  Consequently  he  took  Corman 
into  custody  and  locked  him  up. 

George  Hopkins  was  at  that  time  an  officer  in  Denver, 
and  he  was  called  upon  to  aid  in  working  up  the  case.  He 
was  sent  to  see  Mrs.  Kerwin  and  to  ascertain,  if  possible, 
whether  she  did  not  know  more  about  it  than  had  so  far  been 
developed.  Gen.  Cook,  himself,  believed  that  she  could  tell  the 
entire  story  if  she  would.  In  this  case,  as  in  most  others,  he 
hit  the  nail  square  on  the  head.  The  woman  knew  a  great  deal, 
and  Hopkins  w^as  able  to  prevail  upon  her  to  tell  her  story. 
Her  revelation  w'as  startling  enough. 

Mrs.  Ker win's  sleeping  apartments  adjoined  those  of  Cor- 
man and  Mrs.  Foster,  and  there  was  only  a  thin  board  partition 
between  the  two  rooms,  there  being  many  cracks  in  the  boards. 
On  the  night  of  the  assault  she  had  heard  Corman  come  in. 
She  had  already  retired,  and  was  supposed  by  him  and  the  Fos- 
ter woman  to  be  asleep,  though  she  was  not.  He  had  appeared 
to  be  considerably  flurried,  and  had  said  to  Mrs.  Foster: 

^'Well,  I  hit  the  d d  old  Jew%  and  I  hit  him  hard,  but  I 

did  not  get  anything — not  a  cent.  The  officers  came  so  quick 
that  I  couldn't  move  a  wheel,  and  had  to  run  like  the  devil  to 
get  away." 

As  may  be  supposed,  this  disclosure  had  aroused  the  curi- 
osity of  the  listening  woman.  She  was  now  wide  awake,  and 
was  determined  to  hear  all  that  was  to  be  said.  She  put  her 
ear  to  an  open  crack,  and  then  heard  the  man  tell  his  woman 


THE  RETRIBUTION  OF  FATE.  335 

liow  he  had  come  upon  the  Jew  and  struck  him  with  his  hatchet. 
This  he  had  no  sooner  done  tlian  John  clutched  him,  the  blood 
spurting  out  of  his  fresh  wound  and  covering  his  shirt.  The  gar- 
ment, he  said,  was  then  bloody.  An  examination  by  the  two. 
which  Mrs.  Kerwin  witnessed,  confirmed  his  statement.  It  was 
then  decided  between  them  that  the  tell-tale  garment  must  be 
disposed  of.  Gorman  accordingly  took  the  shirt  off,  and  they 
stowed  it  away  in  a  cooking  vessel  which  the^'  found  in  the 
room,  which  Gorman  took  to  the  back  yard  and  buried,  return- 
ing and  going  to  bed. 

The  officers  having  this  story  in  their  possession,  began  to 
look  for  the  hidden  shirt.  A  snow  had  fallen  in  the  early  morn- 
ing after  it  had  been  buried,  and  they  were  compelled  to  look 
over  almost  the  entire  yard  for  it  before  uncovering  it,  but  they 
nt  last  came  upon  the  hidden  article.  It  was  found  snugly  buried 
some  eight  inches  below  the  surface,  and  when  brought  out  it 
was  discovered  to  be  pretty  well  bespattered  with  the  crimson 
fluid. 

Thus  the  case  was  worked  up  by  Gen.  Gook.  He  had  not 
rested  until  he  had  probed  the  mystery  to  its  foundation.  It 
would  seem  that  there  could  have  hardly  been  the  least  chance 
for  Gorman  to  escape  the  gallows.  Strange  as  it  may  appear 
to  the  reader,  he  not  onh'  was  not  hanged,  but  he  was  allowed 
to  go  scot  free. 

There  was  then  but  one  term  of  the  district  court  held  each 
vear  in  Denver,  and  it  came  in  Januarv.  The  trial  of  Gorman 
€ame  on  in  Januarv,  1807.  The  crime  was  then  fresh  in  the 
minds  of  the  people,  and  the  proceedings  were  watched  with 
very  great  interest.  The  jurors  who  sat  in  the  case  were  P^.  M. 
Goodrich,  W.  S.  Peabody,  Eli  Daugherty,  R.  S.  Permar,  Edward 
Bates,  L.  M.  Sprague,  G.  M.  Birdsall,  Watson  Hplyer,  W.  S. 
Hurd,  W.  H.  Levain,  Robert  Tait  and  D wight  S.  Thompson. 
The  people  were  represented  by  Hon.  V.  D.  Markham,  then  pros- 
ecuting attorney,  while  Messrs.  M.  Benedict,  G.  W.  Ghamber- 

lain   and  Bostwick  appeared   for  the   defense.     The   case 

was  ably  presented  on  both  sides,  the  defense  relying  prin- 
cipally upon  impeaching  the  testimony  of  Mrs.  Kerwin,  who  was 
the  most  important  witness  for  the  prosecution.  ,  They  succeeded 


386  THE  RETRIBUTION  OF  FATE. 

in  making  such  an  impression  upon  the  mind  of  one  of  the 
jurors  as  to  cause  him  to  hold  out  for  acquittal  against  the  other 
eleven,  who  favored  a  verdict  of  murder  in  the  first  degree,  the 
penalty  for  which  would  have  been  hanging.  The  obstinacy  of 
this  one  man  resulted  in  the  bringing  in  a  report  of  disagree- 
ment by  the  jury.  The  case  was  thus  continued  until  the  next 
term  of  court.  By  the  time  this  term  convened  Mrs.  Kerwin  had 
died,  and  Mr.  Haskell  had  left  the  city,  and  their  testimony 
could  not  be  obtained.  Hence  the  case  was  dismissed,  and  the 
murderer  of  Cheap  John  became  a  free  man  in  1868. 

When  Gorman  was  turned  out  of  jail  he  found  Denver  a 
very  disagreeable  place  of  residence,  as  everybody  believed  him 
guilty  of  murder.  He  went  to  Georgetown,  where  he  soon  be- 
came known  as  one  of  the  worst  sots  of  the  town,  earning  a 
scanty  living  by  scrubbing  out  barrooms.  Even  his  woman  de- 
serted him. 

Gen.  Cook  saw  him  in  Georgetown  in  1874,  and  asked  wh> 
he  did  not  tell  all  about  the  murder  of  Cheap  John. 

''If  I  should  do  so,"  he  replied,  "they  couldn't  prove  it  on 
me." 

Poor  fellow!  he  met  with  a  worse  fate  than  death  on  the 
scaffold.  There  was  in  those  days  an  unused  tunnel  in  the  side 
of  a  mountain  near  Georgetown,  extending  in  about  a  hundred 
feet.  The  people  of  the  town  were  startled  one  quiet  afternoon 
by  a  report  of  an  explosion  coming  from  the  direction  of  this 
tunnel,  which  seemed  to  them  to  be  loud  enough  for  the  bursting 
loose  of  a  volcano.    Almost  the  whole  city  was  shocked. 

The  temporary  bewilderment  having  subsided,  an  investigat- 
ing committee  was  organized  to  explore  the  tunnel.  They  went 
in  with  lights,  and  soon  discovered  to  their  dismay  that  there 
was  fresh  flesh  sticking  to  some  of  the  rocks  of  the  wall.  Other 
pieces  of  flesh,  and  some  clothing  and  fragments  of  bones  were 
found  scattered  about.  There  was  enough  of  the  clothes  left 
to  identify  them  as  those  of  old  Gorman.  He  had  gone  into  the 
tunnel — for  what  purpose  no  one  will  probably  ever  know — and 
had  found  a  five-pound  can  of  nitroglycerine  lying  on  the  ground, 
and  had  evidently  picked  it  up  to  examine  it,  and,  finding  that 
it  was  nothing  that  he  wanted,  had  thrown  it  down,  creating  the 


THE  RETRIBUTION  OF  FATE.  387 

explosion  which  had  shocked  the  town,  and  which  tore  his  car- 
cass into  shreds. 

People  said  it  was  Fate  that  did  it.    Who  knows? 

And  this  is  the  end  of  the  story  which  began  eight  or  nine 
years  before,  with  Gen.  Cook's  hearing  a  strange  noise  while 
crossing  the  Cherry  creek  bridge.  Strange,  isn't  it,  how  all 
these  scoundrels  meet  their  just  deserts?  There  are  6ther  laws 
than  those  which  the  courts  deal  with,  and  superior  to  them. 
One  of  these  prescribes  punishment  for  the  murderer.  It  always 
comes  sooner  or  later. 


13 


A  TOWNFUL  OF  THIEVES. 

CHAPTER  LVII. 

WHOLESALE  THIEVING  FROM  THE  KANSAS  PACIFIC  RAILROAD  AT 
KIT  CARSON— TRAINS  ROBBED  BY  AN  ORGANIZED  BAND  INCLUD- 
ING THE  ENTIRE  POPULATION  OF  THE  PLACE— GROCERIES, 
DRY  GOODS  AND  LIVE-STOCK  STOLEN— A  RAILROAD  DETECTIVE 
IN  BAD  LUCK— THE  ROCKY  MOUNTAIN  ASSOCIATION  ON  THE 
LOOKOUT— ALEX  MACLEAN'S  NARROW  ESCAPE— DUPLICITY  OF  A 
CONSTABLE  AND  A  JUSTICE  OF  THE  PEACE— THE  WHOLE  GANG 
ARRESTED  AT   DAYLIGHT  BY  A   POSSE   FROM   DENVER. 

The  month  of  January,  1877,  was  devoted  by  the  Rocky 
Mountain  Detective  Association  to  the  ferreting  out  of  a  gang 
of  thieves  who  made  their  headquarters  at  Kit  Carson,  on  the 
Kansas  Pacific  railroad  in  this  state,  and  who  earned  a  living 
by  stealing  from  the  railroad  cars. 

The  case  was  one  of  prolonged  and  bold  stealing,  in  which 
a  large  number  of  the  citizens  around  Carson  took  a  high  hand. 
They  carried  on  with  great  success  a  scheme  for  the  robbery  of 
the  Kansas  Pacific  Railroad  Company  and  those  who  en- 
trusted their  freights  to  the  care  of  this  corporation.  Carson  is 
situated  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  Denver,  and  was 
then  the  point  at  which  the  Arkansas  Valley  branch  of  this  road 
left  the  main  stem.  It  is  also  at  the  foot  of  a  heavy  grade,  and 
was-  then  used  as  a  place  for  leaving  cars.  On  account  of  the 
grade,  it  was  often  the  case  that  the  most  heavily  laden  of  the 
cars  were  laid  over  there.  The  plan  with  the  rascals  who  car- 
ried out  this  scheme  was  to  help  themselves  to  a  portion  of 
whatever  articles  they  might  find  themselves  in  need  of. 

The  watchman,  whose  name  was  Frank  E.  Williamson,  it 
seems  took  part  in  these  plunderings,  and  was  well  paid  for 
his  trouble.  They  did  not  confine  themselves  to  merely  laying 
in  groceries,  dry  goods,  etc.,  but  actually  broke  into  the  live-stock 


A  TOWNFUL  OF  THIEVES.  339 

cars  and  secured  good  prizes  in  the  shape  of  horses  and  mules. 
At  first  but  little  notice  was  taken  of  these  depredations,  as 
thej  were,  for  a  time,  on  a  very  small  scale,  but  the  losses  being 
continually  reported,  aroused  a  suspicion  in  the  minds  of  the 
officials  of  the  road  that  the  goods  were  more  than  one  man 
could  comfortably  get  away  with,  and  hence  they  reasonably 
concluded  that  a  gang  was  engaged  in  the  business.  The  reports 
constantly  coming  in,  it  was  by  some  means  ascertained  that 
Carson  was  the  point  at  which  they  were  taken,  and  accordingly 
the  matter  was  placed  in  the  hands  of  Gen.  D.  J.  Cook,  the 
superintendent  of  the  Kocky  Mountain  Detective  Association. 
Not,  however,  until  the  railroad  company  had  made  an  effort  to 
make  one  of  its  own  detectives  useful. 

Having  convinced  themselves  that  the  goods  which  shippers 
complained  of  finding  missiug  were  being  stolen  at  Carson,  the 
company  sent  one  of  their  '"fly"  men  to  the  place  to  work  up 
the  case,  that  evidence  might  be  obtained  and  the  parties  ar- 
rested. After  spending  a  few  days  about  Carson,  he  decided  to 
take  some  action,  thinking  that  he  had  sufficient  facts  to  justify 
arrests.  He  accordingly  went  before  the  magistrate  of  the  place, 
whose  name  was  Pat  Shanley,  and  who  was  also  proprietor  of 
the  hotel  there.  The  warrant  being  sworn  out  against  a  few 
men,  Shanley  told  the  detective  that  he  would  take  him  around 
and  introduce  him  to  the  constable,  whose  name  was  Worth 
Keene,  and  who  was  also  proprietor  of  a  saloon,  intimating  that 
it  might  be  a  good  opportunity  to  kill  two  birds  with  one  stone 
by  getting  a  drink  at  the  same  time  the  paper  was  handed  over 
to  the  constable.  The  drink  was  taken,  and  the  two  enjoyed 
a  laugh  at  the  expense  of  the  fellows  who  were  so  soon  to  be 
in  the  hands  of  the  minions  of  the  law.  But  the  detective  prob- 
ably did  not  see  the  sly  wink  which  passed  from  the  justice 
when  he  handed  over  the  warrant,  or  if  he  did,  did  not  under- 
stand its  import.  He  must  have  thought  it  rather  strange,  how- 
ever, when  after  going  out  Constable  Keene  did  not  return,  and 
the  men  whom  he  knew  to  be  offenders  against  the  law  began 
to  disappear.  It  may  be  that  he  was  given  a  hint  of  the  inten- 
tion of  the  citizens  of  the  place,  which  was  to  lynch  him  that 
evening. 


390  ^  TOWNFUL,  OF  THIEVES. 

Whether  his  suspicions  were  aroused  or  not,  when  the  train 
came  along  bound  for  Kansas  City,  the  detective  quietly  stepped 
aboard  and  was  seen  no  more  in  those  parts.  He  departed  with 
but  little  more  information  than  he  had  possessed  when  he  went 
in,  and  convinced  that  the  ways  of  the  people  of  Carson  were 
peculiar,  quite  peculiar,  and  past  finding  out. 

It  was  then  that  the  case  was  placed  in  the  hands  of  Gen. 
Cook  to  have  it  worked  up.  The  job  was  a  delicate  one.  There 
were  but  about  twenty-five  people,  women  and  children  included, 
residing  at  Carson,  so  that  a  man  who  should  go  there  would 
be  open  to  immediate  inspection,  and  if  he  should  go  as  a  de- 
tective, the  chances  were  that  he  would  be  found  out  before  he 
could  find  out  anything.  Yet  Cook  decided  to  chance  it.  He  con- 
cluded to  send  a  man  down  to  the  place,  who  should  stop  there 
for  awhile  and  play  the  role  of  a  deserter  from  the  army.  Alex 
MacLean,  at  present  a  resident  of  Denver,  was*  commissioned 
to  perform  this  delicate  task.  All  went  well  with  him  for  awhile 
— almost  to  the  end,  in  fact.  He  got  along  quite  swimmingly  for 
many  days.  His  story  was  accepted,  and  as  he  displayed  a  con- 
siderable sum  of  money  and  used  it  freely,  he  was  made  at  home 
with  the  boys. 

At  last,  however,  the  thieves  began  to  suspect  MacLean  and 
made  a  strong  endeavor  to  catch  him.  One  of  them  prevailed 
upon  MacLean  to  sleep  with  him  one  night,  and  during  the  night 
undertook  to  draw  him  out,  telling  him  tjiat  there  was  a  splendid 
opportunity  there  fpr  a  detective,  and  entering  at  some  length 
into  the  scheme  of  robbery  which  had  been  carried  on  at  the 
place.  MacLean  listened  with  eagerness,  though  he  did  not,  by 
words  at  least,  betray  himself.  He,  however,  agreed  with  his 
friend  that  they  could  make  a  great  deal  of  money  together  by 
exposing  the  thieving,  and  that  the  man  should  show  MacLean, 
the  next  morning,  where  the  goods  were  hidden.  This  was  done 
according  to  programme. 

It  now  became  apparent  to  the  thieves  that  MacLean  was  a 
detective,  and  they  arranged  their  plans  to  put  him  out  of  the 
way,  in  other  words,  to  quietly  kill  him  on  the  following  night. 
This  programme  would  most  likely  have  been  carried  into  effect 
had  the  thieves  not  been  so  indiscreet  as  to  whisper  their  inten- 


A  TOWNFUL  OF  THIEVES.  391 

tions  to  some  one,  who  dropped  the  information  far  down  the 
Kansas  Pacific,  beyond  Carson,  to  a  party  who  telegraphed  Gen. 
Cook  the  peril  that  his  man  was  in.  With  this  Cook  decided  to 
recall  MacLean  and  ordered  him  home  that  very  day,  and  thus 
were  the  plans  of  the  murder  frustrated. 

A  previous  train  the  same  day  brought  in  Williamson,  the 
watchman,  who,  concluding  that  he  had  been  found  out  or  soon 
would  be,  was  preparing  to  skip  the  country,  and  came  in  with 
his  baggage  checked  for  Montana.  Being  informed  through  Mac- 
Lean  that  Williamson  was  on  the  train  and  that  he  probably 
knew  a  great  deal.  Cook  proceeded  to  the  depot  in  Denver,  met 
the  train  and  quietly  took  Williamson  into  custody.  He  at  first 
made  an  effort  to  bluff  the  officers,  but  failing  in  this,  agreed 
to  make  a  full  conf<3ssion  on  the  condition  that  he  should  be  re- 
leased from  custody.  The  officers  agreed  to  this  proposition, 
especially  as  they  had  already  taken  precautions  to  prevent  his 
capture  being  known  or  telegraphed  to  his  friends  at  Carson. 
Being  placed  in  a  close  carriage  he  was  driven  to  a  place  of 
safety  and  then  told  the  entire  story  of  the  thievery  to  the  de- 
tective. 

It  appeared  from  this  story  that  the  entire  town  of  Kit  Car- 
son, with  the  exception  of  two  men  who  were  too  old  for  action, 
had  been  engaged  in  the  thievery,  which  he  said  had  been  going 
on  for  nearly  two  years,  beginning  by  small  stealings  and  in- 
creasing them  as  time  went  on  until  some  big  holes  were  made 
in  the  shipments  which  passed  through.  Shanley,  the  justice  of 
the  peace,  was  the  head  of  the  gang,  and  he  accumulated  quite 
a  fortune  in  carrying  on  the  work.  His  hotel  was  supplied  from 
the  proceeds  of  his  robbery.  He  purchased  herds  of  cattle,  and 
before  he  was  discovered  had  stolen  sufficient  stock  to  start  a 
line  of  teams  between  Carson  and  Del  Norte,  thus  procuring  a 
market  for  the  stealings  of  the  gang  in  the  San  Juan  country, 
and  hauling  them  away  at  the  expense  of  others.  Keene,  the 
constable,  was  also  a  leader  in  the  gang.  With  the  magistrate 
and  the  constable,  the  state's  only  officers  in  the  district,  and  the 
cooperation  of  the  railroad  watchman,  the  stealing  was  made 
easy.     It  was  now,  alas,  about  to  be  brought  to  an  end  forever. 

It  was  on  the  1st  of  February,  1877,  that  Williamson  was 


392  ^  TOWNFUL  OF  THIEVES. 

arrested  and  that  MacLean  arrived  at  home.  Gen.  Cook  de- 
cided that  the  gang  must  be  taken  without  delay,  and  as  soon 
as  MacLean  arrived  and  he  heard  his  story,  he  decided  upon  a 
coup  d'etat.  Procuring  a  special  train,  he  organized  an  expedi- 
tion under  the  leadership  of  Assistant  Frank  Smith,  and  sent 
them  down  to  make  the  arrest  of  the  parties  implicated.  The 
party  consisted  of  Smith,  MacLean,  Major  Sam  Logan,  John 
Copeland,  Tom  Chandler,  and  Tom  Porter. 

The  special  left  DeuA'^er  in  the  evening  and  ran  leisurely  down 
the  track,  timing  itself  so  as  to  reach  Carson  about  daylight. 
All  worked  well,  and  the  train  drew  up  a  few  hundred  feet  west 
of  the  station  just  as  the  gray  dawn  was  beginning  to  make 
itself  visible  on  the  eastern  knolls  of  the  plains.  But  little  time 
was  lost  in  preliminaries.  Most  of  the  men  belonged  at  the 
hotel,  and  it  was  determined  to  surprise  them  first.  The  officers 
crept  cautiously  behind  a  protecting  house,  and  finding  that  a 
majority  of  the  rogues  were  already  out  of  bed  and  standing  in 
front  of  the  hotel,  marched  boldlv  out  before  their  startled 
gaze,  and  with  arms  presented  and  ready  for  instant  use,  com- 
manded the  scoundrels  to  hold  up  their  hands. 

It  was  all  over  in  a  minute.  Nothing  was  left  for  them  to 
do  but  to  throw  their  hands  into  the  air  and  quietly  surrender. 

This  party  being  in  the  possession  of  the  officers,  the  few 
others  scattered  in  various  directions  were  soon  taken,  there 
being  eight  in  all,  namely:  William  Kelly,  Worth  Keene,  Mike 
Pitzpatrick,  William  Tally.  Thomas  Easbaugh,  J.  Katliff,  C.  W. 
Lindsley  (Texas  Bill),  and  Pat  Shanley.  A  hurried  search  was 
made  in  the  vicinity  and  large  quantities  of  stolen  goods  were 
found  hidden  from  Kit  Carson  down  the  railroad  for  four  miles, 
as  well  as  two  miles  east,  on  the  Big  Sandy,  and  some  on  Horse 
creek,  north  of  Kit  Carson.  Nearly  all  the  articles  were  buried 
in  the  ground.  Among  the  miscellaneous  assortment  of  articles 
stolen  were  hats,  caps,  laces,  silks,  groceries,  boots,  ladies'  shoe,<3, 
raisins,  feather  beds,  beef,  beef  tongues,  apple  butter,  bacon, 
ham,  tea,  coffee,  lard,  a  quantity  of  coal,  tobacco,  powder  and 
butter.  The  goods  were  mostly  taken  from  the. original  pack- 
ages, and  where  they  were  not  so  filched  most  of  the  marks  were 
erased,  except  in  the  case  of  the  butter. 


A  TOWNFUL  OF  THIEVES.  395 

When  these  men  were  removed  from  Carson  to  West  Las 
Animas,  the  county  seat  of  Bent  county,  in  which  the  stealing 
was  conducted,  there  were  but  two  men  left  at  the  station  to 
take  care  of  the  horde  of  women  and  children  who  cried  after 
them  as  they  moved  away  in  their  shackles. 

One  more  arrest  made  in  Denver  completes  the  list.  While 
the  posse  was  down  the  road  Col.  C.  W.  Fisher,  division  super- 
intendent, telegraphed  to  Gen.  Cook  to  arrest  a  brakeman  named 
Adam  Ehls,  for  complicity  with  the  gang.  He  was  discovered 
late  in  the  evening  at  520  Arapahoe  street,  in  full  dress  for  an 
engineers'  ball.  But  the  appearance  of  Detective  Arnold  con- 
vinced him  that  a  change  of  programme  was  unavoidable,  and 
that  Turner  hall  must  dispense  with  his  presence.  When  in- 
formed that  Col.  Fisher  had  ordered  his  arrest,  he  seemed  to 
perfectly  comprehend  the  whole  affair.  The  officer  accompa- 
nied him  to  his  own  house,  where  were  found  a  trunk  and  valise 
containing  a  large  quantity  of  fancy  goods,  ladies'  shoes,  silver 
plated  pistols,  and  several  boxes  of  cheap  jewelry.  Forty  pocket 
knives  had  been  placed  on  sale  at  Tierney's  hardware  store,  but 
were  recovered  several  days  before. 

Thus  was  this  well  organized  and  extensive  gang  of  thieves 
brought  to  justice  in  a  way  so  effective  that  the  road  never  since 
had  a  trouble  of  this  kind  of  half  so  extensive  a  scale  to  deal 
with. 

The  association  received,  as  it  certainly  deserved,  the  warm- 
est thanks  from  the  railroad  company,  as  well  as  liberal  pay  for 
their  services. 

At  the  preliminary  examination  of  this  band  of  thieves, 
which  was  held  at  West  Las  Animas  soon  after  their  capture, 
sen-eral  of  the  men  were  released  upon  bail,  in  sums  ranging  be- 
tween |1,000  and  |o,000  bail  each.  Shanley's  bail  was  fixed 
at  15,000,  Keene's  at  |2,500,  and  Ehl's  at  fl.OOO.  Three  of  the 
men  were  sent  to  the  penitentiary  for  long  terms,  and  the  other 
four  escaped  upon  technicalities.  Shanley,  Keene  and  Ehls  for- 
feited their  bonds  and  disappeared  from  the  state,  never  having 
been  seen  in  Colorado  since. 

The  town  of  Kit  Carson  was  broken  up  by  the  raid,  and  is 
now  little  more  than  a  water  tank  on  the  Kansas  Pacific. 


RAGSDALE  GATES. 

CHAPTER  LVIII. 

A  MURDERER  FROM  MISSISSIPPI  IN  COLORADO— A  "NIGGER  HUNTER" 
AND  A  BAD  CITIZEN— $500  REWARD— THE  R.  M.  D.  A.  HEARS  OF 
GATES  IN  SILVER  CLIFF,  WHERE  HE  IS  ARRESTED  AND  WHENCE 
HE  ESCAPES— TRACKED  TO  DAKOTA  AND  CAPTURED  IN  NE- 
BRASKA—A GOOD  JOB  BY  DETECTIVE  WISE. 

Ragsdale  Gates  was  a  "bad"  mau.  He  hailed  from  Missis- 
sippi, and  came  awa}^  from  that  state  under  circumstances  which 
did  not  speak  well  for  his  character.  He  left  his  country  for 
his  country's  good  and  to  save  his  own  neck,  which  was  in  jeop- 
ardy. Mr.  Gates  was  one  of  those  numerous  southern  ''gentle- 
men" who  drink  too  freely,  and  who,  when  in  liquor,  are  apt  to 
do  many  rash  acts,  which,  when  they  are  once  sober,  they  are 
sorry  for.  Mr.  Gates  had  lived  for  many  years  prior  to  1879 
at  Friar's  Point,  where  he  killed  three  white  men  while  drink- 
ing. He  is  also  said  to  have  been  a  famous  ''nigger  hunter"  in 
the  Mississippi  swamps,  and  had  been  a  leader  of  one  of  the 
famous  Kuklux  clans  back  in  the  days  succeeding  the  close  of 
the  war.  He  had  the  reputation  of  having  laid  several  colored 
men  to  rest.  But  it  was  not  an  act  of  this  kind  that  got  him 
into  trouble.  It  was  the  killing  of  a  fellow  white  man,  under 
circumstances  peculiarly  aggravated.  He  was  arrested  and  es- 
caped jail. 

Having  gotten  out  of  prison.  Gates  left  Mississippi,  and  it 
was  some  time  before  his  whereabouts  became  known  to  any 
one.  In  some  way  the  Friar's  Point  oflficers  obtained  an  ink- 
ling that  the  fugitive  had  come  to  Colorado.  They  did  not  know 
to  what  point  he  had  come,  or,  indeed,  whether  he  was  in  the 
state  at  all,  but  merely  surmised  that  he  was.  Being  desirous 
that  Gates  should  be  apprehended,  they  Mrote  to  Gen.  Cook, 
chief  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  Detective  Association,  of  their  sur- 
mises, and  offered  a  reward  of  3^500  for  the  capture  of  the  man. 


RAGSDALE  GATES.  397 

sending  a  description  of  him.  The  matter  was  turned  over  to 
Mr.  William  Wise.  Mr.  Wise  was  then,  and  had  been  for  -years 
previous,  one  of  the  leading  members  of  the  detective  associa- 
tion, and  one  of  the  most  astute  and  discreet  detectives  in  the 
state. 

Mr.  Wise  took  the  case  in  hand  and  worked  it  up  with  his 
customary  energy  and  caution.  He  was  not  long  in  learning 
that  a  man  giving  the  name  of  J.  J.  Keed,  and  answering  to  the 
description  of  Gates,  was  figuring  in  the  southern  part  of  the 
state.  He  learned  of  him  at  Silver  Clitf,  and  learned  that  the 
man  had  been  accused  of  horse  stealing,  not  for  any  innate  love 
of  horse  tlesh,  but  merely  that  he  might  gain  time  in  his  move- 
ments. Mr.  Wise  opened  a  correspondence  with  persons  at 
Silver  Clitf  after  learning  of  the  presence  of  Gates  at  that  point, 
and  had  the  fellow  arrested.  Hearing  that  his  man  had  been 
taken  and  locked  up,  Mr.  Wise  prepared  to  start  for  Silver  Clitf. 
He  had  not  gotten  away  from  Denver  when  he  learned  to  his 
surprise  and  regret  that  Mr.  Gates  had  taken  his  departure  be- 
fore the  officer's  arrival.     He  had  again  broken  jail. 

Mr.  Wise  did  not,  however,  cease  his  pursuit  of  the  crim- 
inal. "Billy*'  is  not  the  man  to  let  up  easily  when  he  once  gets 
well  started.  He  was  determined  that  Gates  should  be  taken. 
He  accordingly  kept  on  the  lookout.  He  learned  that  after  get- 
ting out  of  the  prison  at  Silver  Cliff,  the  man  had  stolen  a  horse 
to  escape  on.  He  tracked  him  to  Dodge  City,  Kan.  But  the 
restless  southerner  did  not  remain  long  at  any  point,  and  join- 
ing a  cattle  drive  from  that  point  to  Dakota,  was  soon  oft"  for 
the  far  north,  going  now  by  the  name  of  Warren.  He  was 
tracked  across  the  plains  by  Wise,  all  the  way  to  Camp  Eobin- 
son,  where  he  was  heard  of  in  a  drunken  row,  as  usual,  which 
ended  up  in  his  seriously  injuring  a  man.  He  was  again  thrown 
into  prison,  and  again  escaped,  the  military  being  unable  to  cope 
with  him. 

Gates  then  escaped  to  Wyoming,  where  he  again  got  into  a 
fight  and  shot  a  man.  This  fracas  resulted  in  the  re-arrest  of 
the  fellow,  and  of  his  being  taken  to  Sidney.  Xeb..  where  Wise 
heard  of  him.  and  where  he  determined  to  go  after  him  with  a 
requisition.      He  had,  however,  not  started,  when  he  heard  that 


398  RAGSDALE  GATES. 

his  man  bad  again  stolen  away.  The  information  of  the  escape 
was  soon,  however,  followed  by  that  of  his  recapture,  and  after 
hearing  this,  Billy  was  soon  off  for  Sidney,  determined  this  time 
to  lose  no  time,  that  he  might  be  sure  of  coming  upon  his  man 
before  he  should  have  another  opportunity  to  get  away. 

Accordingly  Mr.  Wise  went  down  to  Sidney.  He  found  his 
prize  this  time,  and  had  no  difficult}'  in  getting  him  away,  start- 
ing immediately  for  Denver.  On  the  way  from  Sidney  the 
man's  propensity  to  escape  asserted  itself,  but  it  was  not  given 
an  opportunity  to  develop  fully,  and  was  in  fact  nipped  in  the 
bud  at  a  very  aggravating  moment.  Gates  remonstrated  while 
on  the  train  with  the  officer  for  exposing  him  as  a  prisoner,  and 
requested  the  officer  to  allow  him  to  cover  up  his  hands  with  a 
robe,  saying  that  he  was  a  gentleman,  and  pleading  that  his 
pride  was  wounded  in  the  exhibition  which  he  was  compelled  to 
make  of  himself.  Mr.  Wise  at  last  consented  to  give  the  man 
an  opportunity  to  hide  his  shame  and  his  hands,  and  threw  the 
robe  over  the  latter. 

Billy  sat  by  the  side  of  his  prisoner  and  appeared  to  be  look- 
ing through  the  floor,  when,  in  fact,  his  full  gaze  was  directed 
through  the  corner  of  his  eye  towards  the  prisoner.  Soon  he 
saw  the  robe  lying  across  Gates'  folded  arms  begin  to  move. 
He  sat  as  stolid  as  a  block  while  the  fellow  worked  at  his  hand- 
cufifs  for  half  an  hour.  At  last  he  saw  the  two  hands  separate, 
and  watched  the  fellow  quietly  lay  the  irons  under  him  on  the 
seat.  He  had  succeeded  in  getting  the  irons  off.  His  scheme 
was  to  replace  his  hands  under  the  covering  until  the  right 
moment  should  come,  when  he  would  take  the  cuffs  from  his 
seat,  strike  the  officer  over  the  head  with  them,  grab  his  pistol, 
jump  from  the  car  and  be  a  free  man. 

That  moment  never  came.  The  irons  were  hardly  laid  down 
when  Mr.  Ragsdale  Gates  found  the  muzzle  of  Billy  Wise's  big 
pistol  thrust  half  way  up  into  his  ear.  All  was  over  with  him. 
The  officer  had  played  with  him  as  a  cat  with  a  mouse.  He 
promised  if  the  officer  would  allow  him  to  live,  he  would  make 
no  further  effort  to  get  away  while  in  the  custody  of  Mr.  Wise. 
The  promise  was  kept,  and  Gates  was  soon  landed  in  Denver. 

Mr.  Wise  took  Gates  from  Denver  to  St.  Louis,  where  he 


RAGSDALE  GATES.  399 

met  a  sheriff  from  Friar's  Point,  turned  the  prisoner  over  to 
him,  received  his  reward,  and  returned  home  after  receiving  a 
warm  compliment  for  both  himself  and  the  Rocky  Mountain  De- 
tective Association,  from  the  oflScer. 

Gates  being  taken  back  to  Mississippi  was  confined  for 
nearly  a  year  awaiting  trial.  He  escaped  from  jail  again 
on  the  25th  of  June,  1880,  and  was  still  at  last  accounts  at  lib- 
erty. It  is  safe  to  say,  however,  that  he  will  keep  away  from 
Colorado  in  his  wanderings. 


TAKEN  BY  .SURPRISE. 

CHAPTER  LIX. 

ED.    M'GRAND,   A   TEXAS    DESPERADO,   SHOOTS   AN    INOFFENSIVE    BOY 
NAMED  JOHN  WRIGHT,  ON  THE  NORTH  PLATTE— THE  MURDERER 
GETS  AWAY  AND  IS  THOUGHT  TO  HAVE  DISAPPEARED  FOR  GOOD 
.     —ACCIDENTALLY    COME    UPON    BY    DETECTIVE    CARR,    AT    CHEY- 
ENNE—A LITTLE  STRATEGY  AND  A  BIG  CAPTURE. 

Some  time  in  the  spring  of  1878,  Ed.  McGrand,  the  mur- 
derer, and  the  subject  of  this  sketch,  came  up  over  the  trail  from 
Texas  as  a  herder  or  employ^  of  Bosler  Brothers,  of  Sidney,  Neb. 
(who  for  several  years  had  the  contract  of  supplying  several 
Indian  agencies,  from  Red  Cloud  agency,  near  Sidney,  to  the 
agencies  up  the  Missouri  river,  with  beef  cattle).  They  were 
driving  a  herd  of  cattle  to  some  of  the  Indian  agencies  on  the 
upper  Missouri,  and  McGrand  had  just  returned  from  the  trip 
and  was  at  or  around  Bosler  Brothers'  range,  near  Sidney  bridge, 
across  the  North  Platte  river,  about  fifty  miles  north  of  Sidney. 

One  D.  J.  McCann  also  had  a  cattle  range  near  there,  and 
it  seems  McGrand  had  some  ill-feeling  or  prejudice  toward 
McCann,  Bruce  Powers,  and  the  outfit  in  general,  over  some 
trivial  matter. 

On  June  25,  1878,  McGrand  came  to  McCann's  camp,  near 
Platte  bridge,  feeling  very  hostile,  and  with  the  intention  of 
killing  McCann  and  probably  some  of  his  men,  being  well  armed 
and  under  the  influence  of  "bug  juice."  He  attempted  to  shoot 
and  kill  McCann,  and  would  have  done  so  but  for  the  interven- 
tion of  McCann's  men  and  friends.  Among  the  friends  of 
McCann  who  had  ^  interceded  for  him,  to  prevent  McGrand's 
murdering  him  without  cause,  and  had  spoken  in  favor  of 
McCann,  was  the  victim,  John  Wright,  a  young  riian  of  twenty 
or  twenty-one  years  of  age,  though  a  mere  boy  in  stature  and 
looks — a  quiet,  inoffensive  cowboy,  who  had  done  nothing  more 
than  an}'  one  naturally  would  do  to  persuade  McGrand  not  to 
insist  on  murdering  McCann  and  others. 


TAKEN  BY  SURPRISE.  4()1 

As  soon  as  the  row  bad  apparently  quieted  down,  this  boy 
mounted  his  pony  and  rode  away,  crossing  to  the  other  side  of 
the  river  unarmed,  and  with  no  weapons  of  any  kind  about  him, 
doubtless  not  dreaming  of  danger.  But  he  was  followed  by 
McGrand  still  with  murder  in  his  heart.  McGrand  was  mounted 
on  a  good  horse,  which  did  not  belong  to  him  and  which  he  stole 
to  escape  on,  and  armed  with  a  Sharp's  carbine  and  two  Colt's 
large  size  army  revolvers.  Thus  prepared  he  followed  Wright 
and  overtook  him  soon  after  he  had  crossed  the  river,  and  shot 
him  two  or  three  times  in  the  head,  killing  him  instantly,  and 
undoubtedly  without  any  cause,  only  that  he  was  a  friend  of 
McCann's  outfit. 

After  murdering  the  boy,  McGrand  immediately  disappeared, 
going  up  the  North  Platte  river,  and  was  not  heard  of  until  his 
arrest  on  June  30,  1878,  at  a  freighter's  camp,  at  Sloan's  lake, 
near  Cheyenne,  Wyo.,  by  T.  Jeff  Carr,  agent  of  the  Rocky  Mount- 
ain Detective  Association  at  Cheyenne. 

Immediately  after  the  murder  the  authorities  at  Sidney 
offered  a  reward  for  the  arrest  of  the  murderer,  and  also  sent  out 
descriptions  all  over  the  country,  but  through  some  oversight 
had  failed  to  notify  Carr  of  the  murder,  and  it  was  by  accident 
and  a  streak  of  luck  that  he  heard  of  the  murder  in  time  to 
head  off  the  murderer,  who  was  making  south  and  was  ready  to 
start.  In  a  few  hours  he  would  have  been  out  of  reach  and 
danger,  when  arrested. 

It  was  about  June  29,  1878,  when  a  teamster,  driving  a  team 
in  a  mule  freight  train  coming  from  Fort  Laramie  to  Cheyenne, 
which  had  gone  into  camp  near  Cheyenne,  on  the  banks  of 
Sloan's  lake,  came  to  Carr  and  stated  "that  a  suspicious  acting, 
bad  looking  man  on  horseback,  well  armed  with  gun  and  re- 
volvers, had  joined  their  outfit  near  Fort  Laramie,  on  the  North 
Platte,  and  had  traveled  and  camped  with  them  all  the  way; 
that  the  man  acted  as  though  he  had  committed  some  serious 
crime  and  was  afraid  of  capture.  He  kept  out  of  the  way  quietly 
when  strangers  came  around,  always  keeping  his  horse,  gun  and 
arms  alongside  of  him ;  slept  with  gun  and  revolvers  at  his  head, 
and  would  awake  at  night  and  grab  them."  He  described  the 
man  as  tall,  with  the  left  eye  out,  and  when  in  camp  near  town 


402  TAKEN  BY  SURPRISE. 

he  would  be,  the  teamster  said,  always  at  camp  "on  guard"  ap- 
parently, and  had  said  to  him  that  if  any  one  came  to  take  him, 
"he  would  not  be  taken,  as  he  would  be  hung." 

Carr  did  not  know  of  such  a  man's  being  wanted,  but 
thought  something  was  wrong  or  he  would  not  act  so,  and  at 
once  set  to  work  to  find  out  if  a  crime  had  been  committed  lately 
by  a  man  answering  this  description,  and  on  Sunday,  June  30, 
1878,  he  met  a  cattleman  from  Sidney,  on  arrival  of  the  train 
from  the  east,  and  asked  him  if  he  knew  of  a  tall,  one-eyed  man 
being  wanted  at  Sidney,  or  around  his  part  of  the  country.  The 
cattleman  replied  that  such  a  looking  man,  named  Ed.  McGrrand, 
had  murdered  a  boy  at  Platte  bridge  some  two  weeks  before,  and 
a  reward  was  offered  for  him,  and  was  surprised  that  Carr  had 
not  been  notified.  He  said,  also,  that  McGrand  was  a  desperate 
man,  and  advised  Carr  to  go  well  prepared,  and  be  careful  about 
,  taking  him,  as  he  was  a  dangerous  man  to  fool  with,  "and  would 
surely  show  fight."  Carr  immediately  telegraphed  to  Sidney, 
asking  the  sheriff  for  particulars,  and  at  once  received  answer 
that  Ed.  McGrand,  a  tall,  one-eyed  man,  was  "badly  wanted  for 
murder,  and  if  around  Cheyenne,  to  get  him  at  all  hazards." 

Carr  at  once  called  to  his  aid  Deputies  W.  C.  Lykins  and 
E.  H.  Ingalls.  He  detailed  Lykins  on  horseback  with  a  rifle  to 
approach  the  camp  on  the  lake  from  the  northeast,  while  he  and 
Ingalls  in  a  buggy  would  approach  the  lake  from  southwest, 
as  though  all  were  out  for  a  "Sunday  ride,"  and  carelessly  ap- 
proach McGrand's  camp  and  take  him  unawares.  On  arriving 
near  the  lake  and  camp,  they  saw  our  "solitary  guard"  standing 
alone  near  his  horse,  against  a  wagon  tongue,  his  gun  leaned 
against  the  wagon  wheel  and  his  revolvers  in  his  belt  around 
him.  They  gradually  and  in  an  apparently  earless  manner  rode 
nearer  the  camp,  not  apparently  noticing  him  or  the  camp,  until 
they  were  in  speaking  distance.  Carr  then  carelessly  engaged 
McGrand  in  conversation  about  the  teams,  expressing  a  desire 
to  buy  some  of  them  and  to  know  where  the  boss  was,  etc., 
still  driving  nearer  until  close  to  McGrand,  when  Carr  jumped 
out  of- his  buggy,  grasping  the  murderer's  two  hands  or  wrists, 
immediately  followed  by  Deputy  Ingalls,  who  took  his  revolvers 


TAKEN  BY  SURPRISE.  405 

out  of  his  belt,  Deputy  Lykins  all  the  time  covering  him  with 
his  gun. 

Thus  McGrand  was  taken  completely  by  surprise  by  means 
of  the  strategy  used,  and  no  one  hurt.  Otherwise,  he  w^ould 
undoubtedly  have  given  the  officers  a  warm  reception.  After 
he  was  taken  he  gritted  his  teeth  and  cursed  himself  for  being 
such  a  fool  as  never  to  suspect  they  were  officers,  and  told  them 
if  he  had  suspected  they  were  after  him,  they  could  not  have 
taken  him,  as  he  could  have  and  would  have  killed  all  of  them 
and  got  away  on  his  horse.  .  "He  was  the  maddest  and  worst 
fooled  man  you  ever  saw,"  says  Carr.  He  said  he  killed  the 
boy,  "but  whisky  done  it,"  and  "he  knew  he  would  be  hung,"  etc. 

McGrand  was  then  taken  by  Sheriff  Carr  and  placed  in  the 
county  jail  at  Cheyenne,  until  the  next  day,  July  1,  when  he  was 
taken  to  Sidney,  and  on  December  16, 1878,  he  w^as  indicted  by  the 
grand  jury  for  murder  in  the  first  degree,  and  on  the  17th  he 
was  arraigned  and  placed  on  trial  at  Sidney  for  his  life,  and 
through  some  technicality  of  law,  he  saved  his  neck  and  was  al- 
lowed to  plead  guilty  of  murder  in  the  second  degree,  and  was 
sentenced  to  imprisonment  for  life  in  the  state  penitentiary  at 
Lincoln,  Neb.,  and  is  now  serving  out  his  time. 

McGrand's  history  is  not  known  any  more  than  that  gen- 
eral report  saj's  he  had  to  skip  from  Texas  for  murder  commit- 
ted there,  and  that  he  was  a  murderous  and  desperate  man,  and 
thought  nothing  of  killing.  He  was  then  about  forty  or  forty- 
five  years  of  age;  six  feet  tall;  slender  build;  blind  in  the  left 
eye;  spare,  thin,  long  face,  high  cheek  bones,  and  a  very  muscular 
man ;  a  typical  Texas  cowboy,  with  white  slouch  hat,  etc. 


A  RACE  FOK  LIFE. 

CHAPTER  LX. 

THE  STORY  OF  CLODFELTER  AND  JOHNSON,  WHO  SHOT  OFFICER 
WILCOX  IN  1875— JOHNSON  CAUGHT  MISUSING  THE  MAILS  FOR 
FRAUD— HE  TRIES  TO  ESCAPE  FROM  THE  OFFICER,  AND  IN  DOING 
SO,  SHOOTS  WILCOX,  WHO  GRAPPLES  WITH  JOHNSON  AND  IS 
SHOT  IN  THE  BACK  BY  CLODFELTER,  AND  IS  SUPPOSED  TO  BE 
FATALLY   WOUNDED— ESCAPE  OF  THE  WOULD-BE   MURDERERS. 

It  was  on  Saturday,  during  the  last  days  of  February,  1875, 
that  the  then  deputy  United  States  marshal  and  Deputy'  Sheriff 
Charley  Wilcox,  of  Arapahoe  countj',  was  shot  down,  and  it  was 
then  believed  fatally  injured,  at  Island  station,  while  making 
an  effort  to  arrest  one  John  W.  Johnson  on  the  charge  of  an 
improper  use  of  the  mails.  The  affair  was,  take  it  all  in  all,  one 
of  the  most  thrilling  of  the  kind  which  ever  happened  in  this 
vicinity,  and  created  intense  excitement  at  the  time — a  time,  by 
the  way,  when  excitements  were  rare  in  Denver. 

The  facts  leading  up  to  the  tragedy  are  these:  For  a  long 
time  a  "confidence''  game  had  been  carried  on  by  principals,  who 
had  their  headquarters  in  or  about  Denver.  As  early  as  August, 
1874,  the  fact  became  known  to  the  postoffice  department  that 
the  mails  were  being  freely  used  b.y  these  swindlers  and  knaves 
to  accomplish  their  purposes,  and  at  once  steps  were  taken  to 
bring  them  to  justice.  Several  months  afterwards  sufficient  evi- 
dence was  obtained  to  satisfy  any  ordinary  mind  of  the  guilt  of 
a  certain  party,  but  not  to  render  conviction  by  a  jury  a  certainty. 
Consequently  a  plan  was  arranged  to  capture  the  fellow  with 
sufficient  evidence  on  his  person  to  admit  of  no  "reasonable 
doubt." 

The  game  T)racticed  by  the  villains  was  to  send  circulars  to 
different  parties  living  in  this  and  adjoining  territories,  and  even 
in  the  states,  agreeing  to  furnish  a  good  watch  on  the  receipt 
of  three  dollars,  or  to  deliver  the  same  C.  O.  D.  by  express. 


A  RACE  FOR  LIFE.  407 

Stones,  sawdust  and  other  worthless  articles  were  wrapped  up 
very  carefully  in  paper  and  sent  to  those  who  were  so  foolish 
as  thus  to  be  caught.  The  extent  of  the  swindling  thus  carried 
on  is  not  known,  as  hundreds  would  feel  too  ''cheap"  to  acknowl- 
edge that  they  had  been  duped  in  such  a  ridiculous  manner. 

This  man  Johnson,  who  made  his  headquarters  at  Island 
Station,  was  spotted  as  the  individual  who  was  responsible  for 
the  swindle,  through  the  exertions  of  the  Denver  postoffice  offi- 
cials and  the  Rocky  Mountain  detectives,  and  Deputy  Sheriff 
Wilcox  was  sent  to  arrest  him,  being  first  deputized  as  a  United 
States  marshal,  as  the  offense  was  one  against  the  national 
government. 

Wilcox  reached  the  station  before  the  arrival  of  the  mail  on 
that  day,  and  waited  the  arrival  of  Johnson  in  the  postoffice. 
When  he  came  in  he  was  accompanied  by  another  man,  by  the 
name  of  Ike  Clodfelter. 

As  soon  as  Johnson  had  received  a  registered  letter,  sent 
to  trap  him,  he  was  arrested  by  the  deputy  sheriff.  Upon  being 
commanded  to  hand  over  whatever  weapons  he  might  have  about 
him,  Johnson  promptly  turned  over  a  pistol  to  the  officer,  who 
naturally  supposed  the  man  to  be  disarmed  after  this,  and  per- 
mitted him,  in. accordance  with  a  request  which  he  had  made, 
to  go  to  the  door  to  give  some  directions  about  having  his 
horse  cared  for. 

The  man  was  no  sooner  in  the  door  than  he  sprang  out  like 
a  pursued  deer,  and  was  off  with  the  wind.  He  drew  another 
revolver  from  his  bootleg  as  he  passed  out,  and  was  prepared 
to  defend  himself.  The  oflker  gave  chase,  attempting  to  draw 
his  revolver.  As  he  did  this,  the  weapon  fell,  but  rather  than 
lose  time,  he  pushed  on,  not  having  yet  discovered  that  John- 
son had  drawn  a  second  time,  and  believing  that  it  would  be 
one  unarmed  man  against  another  when  he  should  come  up  with 
his  man,  as  he  thought  he  would  be  able  to  do.  Hence  he  con- 
cluded to  waste  no  time,  but  to  push  forward  in  pursuit  of  his 
game.  The  result  shows  that  the  counted  without  his  host,  and 
that  he  did  not  half  appreciate  the  cunning  and  the  desperation 
of  the  man.  or  men,  with  whom  he  was  dealing. 

Johnson  struck  out  at  full  speed,  and  was  followed  by  the 


408 


A  RACE  FOR  LIFE. 


officer  at  a  dead  run.  Finding  that  he  was  gained  upon  con- 
stantly, Johnson  cocked  his  pistol  as  he  ran,  and,  without  stop- 
ping, threw  it  back  over  his  shoulder  with  the  barrel  pointing 
towards  the  pursuer,  sending  a  streak  of  smoke  and  fire  and 
lead  after  him  as  he  flew  over  the  ground.  The  ball  went  sizzing 
by  Wilcox's  head,  but  left  him  unharmed. 

Wilcox  was,  of  course,  slightly  astonished  to  find  the  man 
whom  he  considered  unarmed  firing  at  him,  but  did  not  stop 
at  discovering  this  odds  against  himself.  On  the  contrary,  his 
pluck  was  fully  aroused,  and  he  determined  to  have  his  man 
whatever  the  cost,  now  that  he  had  been  fired  upon  by  him,  and 
he  pushed  on  with  more  speed  than  before.  Of  course,  if  John- 
son had  known  that  Wilcox  had  dropped  his  pistol,  he  could 
have  turned  upon  and  defied  him,  and  the  officer  shrewdly 
counted  upon  his  man's  ignorance  of  this  fact  to  aid  and  save 
him.  The  fellow  continued  to  fire  over  his  shoulder,  but  as  he 
took  no  aim — did  not  even  see  the  object  which  he  wished  to 
strike — there  was  no  danger  except  from  accident.  Five  shots 
were  discharged  in  rapid  succession,  the  balls  passing  uncom- 
fortably near,  but  none  of  them  striking  the  officer. 

Not  dreaming  that  Johnson  carried  anything  more  than  a 
five-shooter,  the  officer  now  pushed  forward  with  still  greater 
speed,  supposing  that  he  had  his  man  safe.  Here  he  learned  a 
second  lesson  as  to  the  character  of  the  man  with  whom  he  had 
to  deal.  The  fellow  had  reserved  one  load.  The  deputy  was 
allowed  to  approach  within  a  foot  or  two,  when  the  gun  was 
suddenly  thrust  back  so  close  as  to  allow  the  muzzle  to  almost 
touch  Wilcox,  when  to  that  gentleman's  great  amazement, 
"bang"  it  went  again. 

Hs  felt  the  hard  lead  crashing  through  the  flesh  of  his  thigh 
and  saw  the  blood  spurt  out,  but  he  grappled  with  his  man,  de- 
termined to  get  him  now  or  die  in  the  efl:ort.  Wilcox  then 
feeling  that  he  was  safe,  collared  Johnson,  who  struck  him  a 
violent  blow  over  the  head  with  the  empty  revolver,  which  in- 
dented but  did  not  fracture  the  skull.  The  officer  began  to  push 
his  man  as  best  he  could  towards  the  house,  calling  out  for 
Postmaster  Fowler  to  come  and  assist  him.  Fowler  started  out, 
but  Clodfelter,  who  was  standing  by,  drew  a  revolver,  and  told 


Hnn!!)"lViWvv]i!i'fi^ 


^iiiifl 


A  RACE  FOR  LIFE.  411 

him  to  "git"  or  he  would  shoot  him.  Fowler  preferred  the 
former  alternative,  and  left  Wilcox  to  his  fate.  By  this  time 
Johnson  had  begun  to  call  on  his  confederate  to  shoot  Wilcox, 
which  Clodfelter  refused  to  do,  especially  as  Wilcox  told  him 
he  did  not  believe  he  was  coward  enough  to  shoot  an  unarmed 
ofiQcer  while  trying  to  do  his  duty.  Wilcox  had  yet  to  learn  that 
this  base  villian  was  more  than  simply  a  friend  of  Johnson's. 

Upon  being  repeatedly  urged  to  shoot,  Clodfelter  finally  gave 
his  revolver  to  Johnson,  with  the  remark: 

"Shoot  the  s — n  of  a  b — h  yourself." 

The  instant  Wilcox  saw  the  weapon  in  Johnson's  hand  he 
so  wrenched  the  fellow's  arm  that  the  weapon  was  useless,  and 
Johnson  immediately  called  on  his  confederate  to  take  it  back 
and  shoot.  This  Clodfelter  refused  to  do,  but  as  the  bitter, 
angry  words: 

"G — d  d — n  you !  don't  you  remember  what  I  did  for  you 
once?" 

Were  uttered,  Clodfelter  reached  for  the  pistol,  and  Wilcox 
for  the  first  time  realized  that  he  had  to  deal  with  a  confederate 
as  well  as  the  principal.  Feeling  that  he  would  probably  be 
shot,  the  thought  occurred  to  Wilcox  to  at  least  so  "mark"  John- 
son that  he  could  not  escape.  He  was  engaged  in  a  tremendous 
struggle  to  throw  Johnson,  intending  to  stamp  his  head  with 
his  boot,  when  Clodfelter  stepped  about  four  feet  off  and  fired. 
Instantly  Wilcox  dropped,  and  the  two  villains  mounted  their 
horses,  which  Clodfelter  had  brought  close  by,  and  made  off. 

Wilcox  was  discovered  to  have  been  shot  by  Johnson  in  the 
thigh,  the  ball  entering  the  groin  and  passing  out  half  way  down 
to  the  knee,  while  Clodfelter  had  planted  his  lead  in  the  poor 
fellow's  back. 

Sheriff  Willoughby,  Postmaster  Cheaver,  Assistant  Post- 
master Maj.  Lander,  Dr.  Charles  Denison,  and  Gen.  Cook,  of  the 
Rocky  Mountain  Detective  Agency,  were  summoned  to  the  scene 
as  quickly  as  possible.  They  found  Wilcox  in  a  precarious  con- 
dition and  likely  to  die  at  any  moment.  They  decided  to  take 
him  to  Denver  where  he  could  have  good  care  and  the  best  of 
medical  aid. 


CHAPTER  LXI. 

THE  ASSASSINS  STILL  AT  LARGE— GEN.  COOK  OFFERS  A  REWARD  FOR 
THEM  AND  UNDERTAKES  THEIR  ARREST— A  CLUE— OFF  FOR  THE 
SOUTH— TRACKING  THE  CRIMINALS  DOWN  UNDER  DIFFICULTIES 
—OUT  ALL  NIGHT  IN  COLD  WEATHER,  HEAVY  SNOW  AND  WITH- 
OUT HORSES— BULLDOZING  RANCHMEN  AND  RAILROADS— A  RIDE 
IN  A  HAND-CAR— ARRIVAL  IN  PUEBLO. 

While  the  valiant  officer  is  lying  at  the  point  of  death,  there 
are  other  scenes  enacting  elsewhere.  Johnson  and  Clodfelter 
are  off  for  their  lives,  and  the  officials  are  hunting  them  down 
with  all  the  avidity  and  keenness  of  scent  of  bloodhounds.  The 
community  was  greatly  enraged,  and  excitement  was  intense 
in  Denver,  as  well  as  in  other  portions  of  the  state.  There  were 
loud  cries  for  vengeance,  and  the  demand  was  made  on  all  hands 
that  the  would-be  murderers  should  be  hunted  down.  On  account 
of  their  well  known  skill,  the  Rocky  Mountain  Detective  Asso- 
ciation were  called  upon  to  take  the  matter  in  hand.  They  were 
ready  to  respond  to  this  call,  as  they  have  always  been  ready 
to  respond  to  any  call  made  upon  them. 

Saturday,  the  day  of  the  killing,  was  spent  in  looking  after 
the  wounded  man,  but  Sunday  the  detectives  put  in  in  prepara- 
tion for  the  work  that  was  before  them.  They  began  the  ball 
by  offering  |250  for  the  apprehension  of  the  desperadoes,  and 
by  sending  out  circulars  informing  the  country  at  large  of  what 
had  been  done,  and  describing  the  culprits. 

On  Tuesday  night,  a  Mr.  Wakeman,  who  lived  then  on  Spring 
creek,  about  twenty-one  miles  from  Denver,  saw  one  of  the 
posters  and  immediately  remembered  that  the  parties  described 
therein  had  been  at  his  place  and  were  inquiring  the  way  to 
Pueblo  without  passing  through  Colorado  Springs. 

This  was  clue  enough,  and  immediately  Gen.  D.  J.  Cook, 
accompanied  by  Frank  Smith,  took  the  trail  of  the  fleeing 
scoundrels. 

Additional  rewards  had  now  been  offered  by  the  state,  the 
county  and  the  postal  service,  swelling  the  aggregate  to  $1,700, 
affording  in  itself  a  temptation  to  the  utmost  endeavor. 


A  RACE  FOR  LIFE.  413 

The  pursuit  was  one  of  the  most  memorable  ever  recorded 
in  the  history  of  detective  work.  The  officers  left  Denver  on 
Tuesday  morning,  taking  the  Denver  and  Rio  Grande  train.  A» 
they  traveled  down  the  road  they  inquired  at  every  station  ia 
regard  to  the  men.  At  Larkspur  they  met  a  men  who  said  that 
the  fugitives  had  taken  supper  at  6  o'clock  the  evening  before 
at  the  house  of  Mr.  Thompson,  only  a  short  distance  away.  At 
Kelly's  Switch  the  officers  received  a  note  from  a  Mr.  Water- 
bury,  stating  that  the  men  who  stopped  at  Wakeman's  were 
the  ones  they  were  after,  and  that  they  had  gone  south.  Na 
other  word  was  received  by  telegram  or  in  any  other  way  by 
these  diligent  men  until  after  the  men  were  seen  to  enter  Pueblo. 
Thompson,  at  whose  house  the  fugitives  had  taken  supper  the 
night  before,  directed  them  by  the  Templeton  Pass  road,  which 
comes  into  the  southern  road  along  the  Fountaine  at  Stubb's^ 
which  is  twelve  miles  below  Colorado  Springs. 

At  the  Springs  the  officers  found  Mr.  Rickerman,  a  miller, 
whom  they  engaged  to  go  over  to  the  Fountaine  road  and  fol- 
low it  down,  while  they  would  go  to  Stubb's  on  the  train,  pro- 
cure horses,  and  travel  up  the  road  to  meet  him,  thus  cutting 
off  the  pursued.  At  Stubb's  they  could  not  procure  horses,  and 
while  deliberating  over  the  matter  Rickerman  rode  in.  He  had 
learned  that  the  fleeing  men  had  crossed  the  Fountaine  two 
miles  above  Stubb's  about  9:30  o'clock  that  morning.  As  no 
horses  could  be  procured.  Cook  and  Smith  footed  it  to  Fountaine, 
five  miles,  while  Rickerman  went  on  ahead  on  horseback. 

By  this  time  night  had  come  on,  and  a  severe  March  snow- 
storm, accompanied  by  strong  winds  and  occasional  sleet,  was 
setting  in.  Still  no  horses  were  to  be  procured,  and  the  pros- 
pect for  progress  was  exceedingly  gloomy  for  the  officers.  They 
not  only  seemed  in  a  fair  way  not  to  be  able  to  procure  means 
of  pursuing  the  men,  but  there  was  a  chance  of  being  compelled 
to  remain  out  all  night  without  adequate  protection  from  the 
storm.  Just  as  the  outlook  seemed  the  darkest  a  ray  of  hope 
broke  upon  the  scene. 

A  second  Colorado  Springs  party  of  five,  well  mounted  on 
the  very  best  livery  horses,  and  armed  with  carbines  and  pistols, 
and  headed  by  a  deputy  sheriff,  rode  up.     Cook  and  Smith  had 


414  A  RACE  FOR  LIFE. 

no  doubt  that  they  would  be  able  to  make  terms  with  these 
men,  and  thus  be  able  to  proceed  with  their  work.  Consequently 
they  made  a  proposition  to  the  leader  of  this  party  to  leave  two 
of  his  men  at  the  place  at  which  they  were  then  stopping,  and 
to  let  Cook  and  Smith  have  two  of  the  horses,  agreeing  to  divide 
the  reward  in  case  the  criminals  should  be  overtaken  and  cap- 
tured. This  proposition  caused  the  Colorado  Springs  officers  to 
hold  a  consultation,  which  resulted  in  a  decision  on  their  part 
to  reject  it. 

**We  can  get  the  men  as  well  as  you  can,"  said  the  leader. 
"We  have  their  description.  None  of  our  men  want  to  stay 
here,  and  we  will  not  make  the  arrangement  you  suggest.  We 
will  pursue  the  men  ourselves,  and  will  not  give  up  our  horses. 
Your  are  out  of  luck,  boys.     Hope  you  will  do  better  next  time." 

This  was  a  crusher.     Another  hope  was  blasted. 

But  Cook  and  Smith  kept  their  own  counsel  and  did  not  lose 
temper.  They  took  supper  at  the  same  place  with  the  Colorado 
Springs  officers. 

After  supper  the  party  of  six,  Rickerman  having  joined 
them,  had  their  horses  prepared  for  the  go,  and  had  mounted, 
when  the  leader  approached  Cook  thus: 

''Say,  old  fellow,  which  way  do  you  think  they  went?" 

It  was  Cook's  time  now  to  get  in  his  lick. 

"Gives  us  two  horses  and  I  will  tell  j'ou;  without  the  horses 
T  don't  know  a  d — d  thing." 

"All  right,"  replied  the  leader,  laughingly,  we'll  get  'em," 
with  which  the  well  mounted  party  rode  oflf,  going  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Cafion  City,  much  to  the  delight  of  the  Denver  men,  who, 
though  still  afoot,  had  a  great  advantage  in  their  experience  of 
years  and  in  the  knowledge  which  they  possessed.  They  deter- 
mined to  press  forward,  notwithstanding  the  snow  was  falling 
at  a  blinding  rate  and  night  had  well  set  in. 

Cook  and  Smith  prevailed  upon  a  ranchman  to  take  them 
to  Mason's  ranch,  six  miles  below,  in  an  express  wagon.  Here 
they  ascertained  that  the  two  men  had  passed  between  8  and  4 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  Cook  and  Smith  then  went  over  to  the 
railroad  station  and  endeavored  to  persuade  three  men,  by  an 
offer  of  |30,  to  take  them  to  Pueblo  on  a  hand-car.     This  the 


A  RACE  FOR  LIFE.  4]  5 

railroad  men  refused  to  do,  as  it  was  against  orders  to  put  a 
hand-car  on  the  track  at  night. 

"If  you  don't  put  it  on  we  will,"  said  Cook  to  the  boss.  "We 
must  have  it." 

"That  would  make  no  difference;  we  can  not  disobey  orders." 

"You  can't,  eh?"  said  Dave,  as  he  pulled  his  revolver  around 
so  as  to  show  it  to  the  astonished  Mike.  "Now  we've  got  to 
have  the  car;  we're  officers  and  must  have  it.  If  you  don't  give 
it  to  us  we  shall  have  to  tak^  it,  and  compel  some  of  your  men 
to  go  along  with  us." 

This  was  an  argument  of  more  force  than  had  yet  been  used, 
and  resulted  in  the  boss's  agreeing  to  take  the  officers  to  a  point 
seven  miles  below,  which  would  be  only  fourteen  from  Pueblo, 
where  he  was  sure  transportation  could  be  obtained. 

In  the  face  of  the  most  disagreeable  snow  storm  of  the  sea- 
son the  indomitable  detectives,  aided  by  three  of  the  section 
men,  propelled  the  car,  the  officers  and  men  alternately  working 
the  lever  and  holding  brooms  to  sweep  the  snow  from  the  rails 
so  as  to  allow  the  car  to  move.  So  they  worked  their  way  along 
for  several  miles  until  they  reached  Mr.  John  Irvine's  ranch. 
There  they  hired  a  wagon  and  team  for  |20,  and  with  that 
went  into  Pueblo,  where  they  arrived  at  3  o'clock  on  Thursday 
morning.  As  may  be  imagined,  they  were  pretty  well  used  up. 
They  had  put  in  about  as  hard  a  night  as  ever  falls  to  the  lot  of 
mortals,  walking  at  times,  as  they  had  to  do,  through  slush  and 
snow;  riding  on  rough  wagons,  working  the  lever  of  the  hand- 
car, and  all  the  time  going  through  the  dark  and  facing  the  wind 
and  sleet.  Besides  this,  they  had  been  compelled  to  bulldoze 
everybody,  ranchmen  and  railroad  men.  A  hard  night  it  had 
been.  No  wonder  that  when  they  got  into  Pueblo  they  were 
well  nigh  exhausted.  Their  clothes  were  wet  through  and  hung 
limp  on  their  limbs  like  clothes  on  a  pole. 

There  were  but  a  few  hours  left  till  morning,  and  the  officers 
decided,  after  stationing  two  guards  at  the  bridge  over  the 
Arkansas,  between  Pueblo  and  South  Pueblo,  to  get  a  little  rest. 
They,  accordingly,  after  instructing  the  guards  as  to  what  to 
do  in  case  Clodfelter  and  Johnson  should  come  up,  as  they  were 
confidently  expected  to  do,  repaired  to  a  hotel,  where  they 
stretched  themselves  out  upon  cots  before  the  fire  with  their 
clothes  still  unremoved,  with  the  hope  of  drying  their  garments 
while  they  should  rest  their  weary  bodies. 


CHAPTER  LXII. 

SPOTTING  THE  FUGITIVES— THEY  APPEAR  IN  PUEBLO  AT  BREAK  OF 
DAY,  AND  THE  OFFICERS  ARE  SOON  AFTER  THEM,  WELL 
MOUNTED  AND  FAIRLY  ARMED— A  DASHING  SCENE- A  THIRTEEN- 
MILE  RACE  ACROSS  THE  PLAINS,  WITH  MANY  SHOTS  FIRED-THE 
DESPERATE  FUGITIVES  AT  LAST'BROUGHT  TO  A  HALT  AND  RE- 
TURNED TO   DENVER. 

Rising  about  6  o'clock  in  tlie  morning,  the  oflflcers  started 
to  engage  horses,  but  had  much  diflficulty.  Finally  they  se- 
cured two,  one  of  them  a  very  fine  animal.  They  then  went  back 
to  the  hotel,  and  started  up  the  Fountaine  to  strike  the  trail  of 
Clodfelter  and  Johnson.  Cook  had  a  Colt's  forty-four  calibre 
pistol,  with  only  six  loads,  and  a  Henry  rifle,  borrowed  at  Pu- 
eblo.    Smith  was  armed  only  with  a  Colt's  breech-loading  pistol. 

They  had  proceeded  about  two  hundred  yards  from  the  hotel 
when  they  heard  a  shout,  and  looking  back  saw  one  of  their 
guards — Officer  Bilby — on  the  hotel  steps,  waving  his  hat.  The 
officers  glanced  over  the  town  and  saw  the  two  men  they  sought 
riding  through.  Instantly  they  let  their  horses  out,  and  en- 
deavored to  cut  off  their  exit  across  the  bridge.  In  this  they 
were  not  successful.  Then  both  rode  up  behind  a  building  and 
then  into  the  street,  down  which  the  men  were  riding,  about  a 
hundred  yards  behind  them.  The  men  had  discovered  th6>y 
were  being  pursued,  and  had  thrown  away  their  blankets,  drawn 
their  revolvers,  and  put  spurs  to  their  horses. 

As  Cook  and  Smith  rode  into  the  street.  Cook  called  upon  the 
men  to  halt,  but  the  demand  was  not  heeded. 

"If  you  don't  halt,  you  are  dead  men."  But  in  vain.  The 
scoundrels  pushed  on  with  all  the  greater  vim.  Their  horses 
were  flying  over  the  ground,  and  the  officers  were  following 
with  the  speed  of  the  wind. 

"Let  them  have  one  just  to  scare  them,"  said  Dave  to  Frank, 
and  the  two  officers  sent  two  shots  into  the  air.  These  had  no 
effect.      The    horsemen    rode    on    without    noticing    the    shots. 


A  RACE  FOR  LIFE.  4JY 

There  were  a  few  people  in  the  street  at  this  early  hour,  early 
and  cold  as  it  was,  but  they  all  scampered  indoors  when  the  bul- 
lets began  to  whiz  in  the  air.  The  horsemen  rode  on  regardless 
of  surroundings.  The  pursued  pair  now  swung  around  in  a  cir- 
cle and  came  up  on  the  mesa  near  the  bridge  above  the  oflQcers, 
and  riding  abreast  and  as  fast  as  their  horses  would  carry  them. 
Cook  stopped  his  horse,  cocked  his  gun,  threw  it  to  his  shoulder, 
and  drew  a  bead,  while  both  men  were  riding  side  by  side,  sixty 
yards  from  him.  They  saw  the  action,  and  realizing  their  im- 
minent danger,  statted  to  drop  behind  their  horses  just  as  the 
detective's  finger  touched  the  trigger  of  his  Henry  rifle. 

The  long  and  hard  chase  seemed  about  to  be  finished,  as 
it  was  almost  certain  that  Cook,  being  a  dead  shot,  would  either 
kill  or  seriously  wound  both  of  his  men.  His  bead  is  perfect. 
The  finger  goes  to  the  trigger;  there  is  a  quick,  nervous  pull — 
down  goes  the  hammer  and — "clack"  goes  the  gun.  It  is  a  mis- 
fire, and  the  tw'o  men  ride  triumphantly  on  into  the  plains. 

The  real  chase  is  only  begun,  for  over  the  plains  fly  the  swift 
steeds,  pursuers  and  pursued.  There  are  few  parallel  cases  on 
record.  For  a  distance  of  thirteen  miles  across  the  open  country 
the  two  detectives  chased  the  two  criminals.  At  times  the  es- 
cape of  the  culprits  seemed  inevitable;  at  times  their  death  or 
capture  seemed  certain. 

After  the  effort  above  described  to  shoot  the  criminals. 
Smith  at  once  seized  his  revolver  and  poured  six  shots  after 
them.      One  of  these  shots  just  grazed  Johnson's  leg,  cutting 

* 

through  the  cuticle.  As  they  rode  through  the  town,  Cook  left 
word  for  Sheriff  Ellis  to  follow  with  a  posse  of  men. 

Across  the  country  the  chase  continued,  and  up  a  small  hill. 
Both  pursuers  threw  away  overcoat,  gloves,  scarf  and  pistol 
scabbards.  Cook  carried  the  gun,  while  Smith,  having  the 
fleetest  horse,  would  ride  ahead,  stop,  get  off  the  horse,  and  be 
ready  to  take  the  gun  and  fire  while  Cook  held  the  reins,  or  to 
hold  the  reins  while  Cook  should  fire. 

But  time  and  again  the  gun  refused  to  go  off.  Finally, 
Cook  turned  over  his  revolver  to  Smith  and  tried  to  fix  the  gun, 
while  on  the  run.  He  endeavored  to  take  it  to  pieces,  but 
failed.     He  pulled  one  cartridge,  and  while  putting  in  another 


418  *^  RACE  FOR  LIFE. 

it  stuck  fast.  By  main  strength  it  was  finally  forced  into  the 
gun.  Just  before  this  Cook's  horse,  while  attempting  to  jump  a 
high  sage  brush,  landed  with  his  hind  feet  in  a  prairie  dog  hole, 
and  he  was  thrown  forward  on  the  pommel  of  his  saddle  and 
was  painfully  hurt.  After  the  cartridge  had  been  forced  home 
the  officers  rode  up  within  range  and  gave  two  shots,  both  miss- 
ing the  mark.  They  again  went  after  the  men,  who  now  left 
the  road  and  turned  into  the  prairie,  and  slightly  towards  Canon 
City,  moving  over  the  country,  jumping  over  the  tall  sagebrush 
and  plunging  into  embankments  of  snow,  ofer  which  the  sun, 
which  had  now  risen,  gleamed  as  on  the  crest  of  ocean  waves, 
almost  blinding  men  and  beast,  but  yet  failing  to  take  the  edge 
off  the  March  air,  which  was  bitter  cold. 

Thus  the  chase  went  on  until  both  parties  gave  evident  signs 
of  weakening.  The  fugitives  had  ridden  their  horses  hard,  and 
they  were  visibly  weakening.  The  poor  animals  could  not  be 
whipped  out  of  a  trot.  The  officers  came  up  to  within  sixty 
yards,  and  Cook  being  so  near,  shouted  to  them : 

''See  here,  boys,  this  thing  has  gone  about  far  enough.  Your 
horses  are  broken  down.  We  are  well  heeled,  and  if  you  don't 
stop  we'll  kill  you.     You  may  count  on  it." 

But  the  precious  pair  paid  no  heed  to  this  warning,  and 
went  on  as  rapidly  as  their  weary  nags  could  carry  them.  Two 
more  shots  were  sent  after  them. 

A  few  feet  further  on,  the  fugitives  were  seen  to  slacken 
their  pace,  and  one  of  them  to  reel  in  his  saddle  and  fall  off  his 
horse  into  the  snow.  This  was  Clodfelter,  and  he  said  to  John- 
son, as  he  stopped: 

"We  must  surrender.      It's  no  use.     I'm  shot." 

He  tried  to  brace  himself  with  his  right  hand,  but  that  had 
been  disabled  by  a  bullet  which  had  struck  the  palm  of  the 
hand  and  plowed  through  it  and  up  the  fellow's  arm,  breaking 
his  pistol  into  smithereens.  It  was  then  that  the  officers  dis- 
covered that  they  had  "winged"  one  of  their  men.  They  had  at 
first  supposed  that  the  men  had  determined  to  stop  and  make 
an  even  fight  of  it  for  their  lives  and  liberty,  but  they  now  began 
to  appreciate  that  they  were  preparing  for  a  surrender,  especially 


14 


A  RACE  FOR  LIFE.  .  421 

as  Johnson  also  threw  himself  out  of  his  saddle  and  threw  his 
hands  into  the  air,  tossing  his  pistol  away  from  him. 

The  officers  dismounted  and  walked  up  to  within  twenty  feet 
of  the  men.  Johnson  was  standing  with  his  hands  up,  and  Clod- 
felter  lay  on  the  ground  by  the  side  of  his  horse,  which  was 
blowing  so  lound  that  he  could  have  been  heard  a  distance  of 
two  hundred  yards,  as  were  all  the  others,  in  fact.  There  was 
a  momentary  silence,  when  Cook,  addressing  Johnson,  said: 

"You  surrender,  do  you?" 

"We  do,"  was  the  reply. 

"Have  you  got  another  pistol?" 

"I  have  just  thrown  it  away." 

"But  have  you  another  one?  You  don't  come  any  Wilcox 
business  on  us.  I  will  have  you  searched,  and  if  another  weapon 
is  found  upon  you  I  will  kill  you  where  you  stand.  Do  you  un- 
derstand?" 

Slowly  Johnson  put  his  hand  into  an  inside  pocket  and 
pulled  out  a  revolver  with  his  thumb  and  forefinger,  and  threw 
it  upon  the  ground  at  his  feet. 

Clodfelter  replied  to  questions  that  he  had  been  so  badly 
wounded  as  to  be  unable  to  get  his  pistol,  which  was  in  his 
pocket.  Cook  then  covered  the  men  with  his  gun  while  Smith 
searched  them.  Clodfelter  was  found  to  be  quite  seriously 
wounded,  and  faint  from  the  loss  of  blood.  He  fainted  away 
when  the  search  was  completed,  and  did  not  recover  until  a  lib- 
eral supply  of  fresh  snow  had  been  dashed  into  his  face. 

The  tw^o  men  w6re  then  mounted  upon  their  horses,  and  the 
party  of  four,  officers  and  prisoners,  started  into  Pueblo. 

Looking  far  off  towards  the  city,  they  saw  a  string  of  horse- 
men coming  towards  them,  numbering  apparently  about  twenty, 
and  some  of  them  five  miles  away.  These  were  Sheriff  Ellis  and 
his  posse,  coming  to  the  rescue  of  the  two  officers.  The  first 
of  them  had  been  encountered  about  half  a  mile  from  the  scene 
of  the  capture,  and  soon  after  the  sheriff  himself  was  met.  Mr. 
Ellis  had  started  out  gallantly  at  the  head  of  his  party.  But  it 
must  be  remembered  that  the  hour  was  early.  The  sheriff"  was 
a  man  of  regular  habits.  He  had  started  out  very  soon  after 
getting  his  breakfast.      He  had  ridden  along  for  ten  miles  far 


422  '^  RACE  FOR  LIFE. 

in  advance  of  the  remainder  of  his  partj'.  He  was  fast  gaining 
on  Cook  and  Smith,  and  might  eventually  have  passed  them  in 
the  chase  and  have  been  the  first  to  come  up  with  the  flyers. 
But  he  was  compelled  to  stop  to  see  other  and  slower  members 
of  his  party  pass  him  one  by  one,  and  to  hear  their  jeers  and 
lioots.  In  brief,  the  same  circumstance  which  prevented  the 
proverbial  dog  from  catching  the  proverbial  rabbit,  stepped  in  to 
prevent  Sheriff  Ellis  from  overtaking  the  fugitive  criminals. 
Poor  fellow!  no  one  enjoyed  the  joke  more  than  he  did.  He 
was  a  good  soul,  and  loved  his  fun  and  his  fellow  mortals  too. 

Almost  the  entire  town  of  Pueblo  met  the  party  upon  its 
return,  and  a  cavalcade  of  fully  two  hundred  men  rode  into  town 
with  them.  Johnson  was  full  of  bravado,  and  swore  that  he 
and  his  ''pard"  would  never  have  been  captured  had  Clodfelter 
not  been  shot.  As  for  Clodfelter,  he  sang  another  tune  entirely. 
He  professed  to  deeply  regret  his  part  in  the  affair,  and  time 
and  time  again  said:  "I'm  sorry;  I  only  hope  they  will  not 
hang  me.'"  The  tears  would  start  and  roll  down  his  face  when 
any  one  spoke  of  Charley  Wilcox  and  his  wounds,  and  he  often 
asserted:  "I  had  no  enmity  to  Wilcox;  I  did  it  under  excite- 
ment." Indeed,  he  seemed  anything  but  a  desperado,  and  was 
evidently  deeply  sensible  of  the  grievous  wrong  he  committed, 
and  suffered  as  much  as  any  one. 

jOnce  on  the  train  after  leaving  Pueblo,  the  two  men  told 
the  story  of  their  flight  after  the  shooting  of  Wilcox,  at  Island 
Station,  immediately  after  which  they  mounted  their  horses  and 
rode  to  Brantner's.  Johnson  remained  t)n  his  horse,  while 
Clodfelter  went  in  and  obtained  a  pair  of  blankets,  and  a  cap 
and  a  coat  for  Johnson.  Clodfelter  told  Brantner  that  they  had 
got  into  trouble,  but  did  not  tell  him  the  whole  story.  They 
then  rode  directly  to  Richard  Morris'  ranch,  on  the  Platte,  and 
about  a  mile  from  Brantner's,  and  inquired  for  Morris.  Not 
finding  him  in,  they  rode  on  to  Jackson  farm,  about  two  miles 
and  a  half  from  Morris',  up  the  Platte,  and  from  there  they  went 
to  Sopris'  old  ranch,  at  the  junction  of  the  Platte  and  Clear 
creek. 

Here  they  endeavored  to  obtain  pistols,  and  then  bullets  and 
powder  and  shot,  but  did  not  succeed.      They  did  obtain  food. 


A  RACE  FOR  LIFE.  423 

Their  course  was  then  straight  for  the  mountains,  intending  to 
strike  them  south  of  Golden.  They  reached  the  foothills  about 
sunrise  Sunday  morning,  about  eight  miles,  as  they  think,  above 
Platte  caiion.  They  spent  most  of  the  day  in  the  mountains, 
but  late  in  the  afternoon  came  out,  went  to  a  ranch  about  three 
miles  below  and  obtained  feed  for  the  horses  and  provisions  for 
themselves.  They  then  struck  south,  and  a  little  before  sun- 
down crossed  the  Platte  about  a  mile  below  the  canon,  intend- 
ing to  strike  the  southern  road.  They  traveled  until  about  12 
o'clock  that  night,  and  after  t^ing  their  horses  laid  down  on  the 
prairie  and  slept  until  morning.  They  were  then  on  Willow 
(South  Plum)  creek,  about  a  mile  above  Wakeman's.  About 
7  o'clock  Monday  morning  they  rode  to  Wakeman's  and  got 
coffee.  From  there  they  made  south,  in  a  direct  line  for  the 
foothills,  and  struck  the  road  running  south  to  Colorado  Springs 
about  3  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  They  followed  the  road  for 
an  hour,  and  then  stopped  at  a  house  and  got  supper.  They  con- 
tinued along  the  road,  passing  Monument  and  other  stations. 
About  4  o'clock  in  the  morning  (Tuesday)  they  passed  through 
Colorado  Springs,  and  took  the  road  south.  Soon  they  became 
bewildered,  and  were  uncertain  about  being  on  the  right  road. 
They  descried  a  ranch  and  went  to  a  hay-stack  and  fed  their 
ponies,  and  discovered  the  railroad.  This  assured  them,  and 
crossing  over  to  the  west  side  of  the  track  they  continued  their 
journey  south,  crossing  the  Fountaine  about  five  miles  below  the 
ranch,  and  afterwards  crossed  back.  About  twelve  miles  from 
Colorado  Springs  they  obtained  a  dinner  and  oats  for  their 
horses.  As  they  pursued  their  southerly  course,  the  snow  be- 
gan to  fall  and  impede  them.  When  about  one  mile  from  Pu- 
eblo, they  i)ut  up  at  a  ranch  for  the  night,  about  10  o'clock  in 
the  evening.  About  7  o'clock  in  the  morning  (Wednesday)  they 
started  for  Pueblo,  and  rode  down  one  of  the  principal  streets, 
when  they  were  discovered.  Not  until  thej'  were  close  to  the 
bridge  did  they  imagine  they  were  pursued,  and  then  only  from 
the  peculiar  action  of  two  men  on  foot  and  two  others  on  horse- 
back. 

Both  men  denied  that  Johnson  said,  "You  know  what  I  did 
for  you  once."    They  declared  all  that  was  said  was,   ''You  know 


424 


A  RACE  FOR  LIFE. 


what  I've  done,"  meaning  the  shooting  at  Wilcox,  and  hence 
requesting  Clodfelter  to  help  him  out  of  the  scrape. 

There  was  great  interest  in  the  prisoners  and  their  success- 
ful pursuers  at  all  stations  along  the  road,  and  especially  at  Col- 
orado Springs,  whose  pursuing  party  had  ''marched  up  the  hill 
and  then  marched  down  again;"  or,  in  other  words,  had  slept 
out  all  night  after  leaving  Cook  and  Smith  at  Fountaine,  and 
returned  the  next  day  to  Colorado  Springs,  hungry,  fatigued, 
sleepy,  almost  frozen  and  without  their  booty.  Colorado 
Springs  really  enjoyed  the  chagrin  of  its  light  brigade,  and  gave 
Cook  and  his  party  a  royal  reception  on  their  return  through 
that  place  as  the  train  halted  at  the  depot. 

There  was  another  reception  in  Denver.  The  officers  came 
in  the  third  day  after  starting  out,  and  brought  their  game  with 
them.  There  was  talk  of  lynching  when  the  party  arrived. 
Continually  after  it  was  announced  that  Johnson  and  Clodfelter 
had  been  captured  and  would  arrive  on  the  evening  train,  the 
probability  of  a  "hanging  bee"  was  discussed  on  the  street  and 
in  every  store.  The  sentiment  of  the  community  was,  however, 
strongly  against  Judge  Lynch,  and  certain  incentives  to  the  gath- 
ering of  a  mob  were  generally  and  severely  denounced.  Still 
curiosity  and  excitement  among  a  certain  class  had  reached  such 
a  pitch  that  measures  were  taken  to  prevent  and  thwart  any 
action  of  the  kind. 

About  the  time  of  the  arrival  of  the  train,  men  and  boys 
could  be  seen  wending  their  way  towards  the  Larimer  and  Fif- 
teenth street  crossings,  and  also  to  the  depot,  as  rumor  had 
named  each  place  for  the  transfer  of  the  prisoners  to  carriages. 
The  largest  crowd  collected  at  the  depot,  where  the  train  did 
unload  its  burden.  It  is  said  that  there  were  those  in  the  crowd 
who  openly  carried  ropes  for  halters. 

As  soon  as  the  train  arrived  at  the  depot  the  prisoners  were 
transferred  to  a  'bus,  their  persons  being  protected  by  a  suffic- 
ient number  of  good  men  to  overawe  any  crowd  who  did  not 
care  to  receive  cold  lead.  The  'bus  was  occupied  by  two  trav- 
elers, Gen.  Cook  and  Frank  Smith,  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  De- 
tective Association,  by  Johnson  and  Clodfelter,  and  Sheriff  Ellis, 
of  Pueblo  county.    On  top  of  the  'bus  rode  Sheriff  Willoughby 


A  RACE  FOR  LIFE.  425 

and  aides.  In  the  rear  was  a  mounted  policeman.  As  the  'bus 
moved  up  the  street  it  was  surrounded  by  a  number  of  wagons 
and  carriages,  filled  with  people  anxious  to  get  a  sight  at  the 
noted  criminals,  while  still  others  followed  on  horseback. 

On  arrival  at  the  jail,  about  three  or  four  hundred  persons 
were  found  collected  at  the  entrance,  who  seemed  indisposed  to 
give  back  for  the  horses  to  pass.  As  soon  as  the  'bus  came  to  a 
standstill,  however,  the  crowd  were  parted  by  Sheriff  Willoughby 
and  his  deputies,  who  arrived  on  the  'bus,  and  by  still  others 
at  the  jail.  This  passage  was  guarded  by  these  men  with  drawn 
revolvers,  and  if  any  effort  had  been  made  to  take  the  prisoners 
from  the  officers  of  the  law,  it  would  have  resulted  in  terrible 
(execution  on  the  crowd.  lu  the  presence  of  such  a  display  of 
armed  men  no  disorder  was  observed,  and  in  safety  the  prisoners 
were  lodged  in  Arapahoe  County  jail. 

From  the  time  the  procession  of  carriages  left  the  depot  until 
the  prisoners  were  landed  in  the  jail,  hundreds  of  eyes  peered 
from  houses,  stores  and  business  blocks  upon  the  unusual  spec- 
tacle, and  i)edestrians  paused  in  their  walk  to  gaze  upon  the 
vehicle  containing  the  men  about  whom  so  much  had  been  writ- 
ten and  said. 

During  this  hurried  trip  through  the  city  the  prisoners  were 
evidentlv  uneasv  and  fearful  of  being  Ivnched.  When  landed  in 
jail  and  the  doors  were  closed  against  the  crowd,  upon  a  re- 
mark being  made  to  Clodfelter  that  he  was  safe,  he  replied : 

'•Yes,  but  the  worst  is  to  come  hereafter." 

Previous  to  being  put  in  a  cell,  the  shackles,  which  were 
riveted  to  their  ankles,  were  cut  off",  and  then  the  men  were 
placed  in  confinement. 

They  were  soon  afterwards  tried  in  Denver,  but  as  Wilcox's 
wound  did  not  prove  fatal,  they  were  only  sent  to  the  penitentiary 
for  three  and  a  half  years  each.  They  are  both  at  liberty  now, 
and  their  whereabouts  has  been  lost  sight  of.  Mr.  Wilcox  is 
still  a  resident  of  Denver,  and  now  a  member  of  the  police  force, 
and  Gen.  Cook  carries  a  scar  on  his  wrist  which  was  caused  by 
a  slight  wound  created  in  attempting  to  remove  the  cartridge 
from  his  gun  during  the  pursuit  of  the  men. 

The  case  was  so  thoroughly  worked  up  by  the  detectives, 


426  ^  RACE  FOR  LIFE. 

and  a  clue  once  obtained  was  followed  with  such  skill,  persever- 
ance and  pluck,  that  the  praise  of  the  entire  state  was  justly 
awarded  them.  The  press  was  full  of  commendation,  but  we 
shall  let  one  example  speak  for  all.  The  Pueblo  Chieftain  said 
th(?  day  after  the  capture: 

.  "'Detectives  D.  J.  Cook  and  Frank  Smith  have  Avon  fresh 
laurels  for  themselves  by  the  excellent  manner  in  which  they 
have  managed  this  case.  Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  even 
the  elements  were  arrayed  against  them,  they  have  managed  to 
follow  up  and  arrest  these  scoundrels  in  a  manner  highly  credit- 
able to  themselves  and  the  association  to  which  thev  belong." 


A  DREAM  OF  DEATH. 

CHAPTER  LXIII. 

A  STRANGE  AND  STARTLING  DREAM  WHICH  PROVED  TRUE— ALEX 
RAMSEY  AND  HIS  HONORABLE  CAREER  IN  HAYES  CITY— PURSUIT 
OF  A  PAIR  OF  HORSE-THIEVES— HIS  WIFE'S  FOREBODINGS- HER 
TERRIBLE  VISION  OF  HER  HUSBAND'S  MURDER  WHILE  ASLEEP. 

DetectiA'es,  as  a  rule,  are  devoid  of  superstition.  They  have 
suflScient  offer  of  assistance  from  mediums  and  fortune  tellers, 
and  of  other  persons  who  profess  to  read  the  future,  but  they 
find  that  thej'  do  better,  as  a  rule,  when  they  depend  solely  upon 
the  material  facts  which  form  their  staple.  They  rely  generally 
upon  their  own  eyes  and  ears  and  shrewdness  of  mind  to  accom- 
plish their  work.  As  a  rule,  in  fact,  they  are  disbelievers  in 
all  that  is  supernatural  or  that  comes  from  so-called  second 
sight.  But  occasionally  they  see  occurrences  which  they  con- 
sider strange,  to  say  the  least.  Gen.  Cook  does  not  call  to  mind 
any  story  in  which  clairvoyance  or  spiritualism  has  plaj'ed  any 
important  part  in  the  capture  of  a  criminal,  but  he  relates  a 
reminiscence  concerning  the  death  of  a  fellow  detective  and 
member  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  Detective  Association,  which  is 
80  very,  very  strange  as  to  deserve  a  place  in  this  record, 
especially  as  the  circumstances  are  thoroughly  authenticated. 
The  story,  regardless  of  this  feature,  is  sufficiently  thrilling  to 
justify  its  publication  here,  but  when  this  is  added,  the  interest 
is  increased  tenfold.  Indeed,  there  are  few  occurrences  related 
in  history  which  combine  to  such  an  extent  the  thrilling  ele- 
ments of  official  life  with  the  mysterious  features  of  the  spiritual 
realm. 

The  story  deals  with  Alex  Ramsey  and  his  wife,  and  is 
located  at  Hayes  City,  Kan.,  the  time  being  the  fall  of  1875. 
Ramsey  was  at  that  time  a  man  about  thirty-three  years  of  age, 
and  was  as  fine  a  specimen  of  manhood  as  is  met  with  in  a  day's 
journey.     He  was  a  thoroughly  western  man  in  all  things — in 


42  8  A  UREAM  OF  DEATH. 

manners,  frankness  and  courage,  as  well  as  in  stature.  He  was 
ever  a  hail  fellow,  genial  with  his  friends,  liberal  to  a  fault,  and 
as  brave  as  a  lion  when  duty  called  him  to  action.  He  was  a 
good  detective,  excelling  especially  in  his  dealings  with  des- 
perate characters.  He  had,  a  few  years  before  the  date  of  this 
story,  married  a  confiding,  impressionable  little  woman  down  in 
the  Missouri  valley,  who  loved  him  with  all  the  strength  of  a 
woman's  nature.  She  depended  upon  him  implicitly,  believed 
in  his  prowess  in  all  matters,  and  reall}'  worshiped  him.  Soon 
after  their  marriage  they  removed  to  Hayes  City,  near  the 
Colorado  line  and  then  the  terminus  of  the  Kansas  Pacific  rail- 
road— a  live,  bustling  town,  full  of  life  and  abounding  in  the 
rough  characters  who  accompanj^  the  building  of  railroads  in 
the  West. 

Ramsey  had  not  long  been  in  Hayes  when  his  courage  as 
well  as  his  many  manly  qualities  came  to  be  known  to  the  people 
of  the  place,  as  he  frequently  had  occasion  to  aid  in  handling 
the  violent  spirits  who  congregated  there.  Hence  it  came  about 
that  when  the  people  of  that  place  came  to  want  an  executive 
officer  in  whom  they  could  trust,  they  selected  Ramsey.  Gen. 
Cook,  as  chief  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  Detective  Agencj^,  heard 
of  this  man,  and  in  1871  invited  him  to  become  a  member  of  his 
association.  The  offer  was  accepted,  and  Ramsey  became  one 
of  the  most  active  of  the  olncers  of  the  organization,  ahvays 
conducting  himself  so  as  to  win  the  approbation  and  maintain 
the  confidence  of  his  chief.  Ramsey  had  served  one  term  as 
sheriff  of  his  county,  and  in  the  summer  of  1875  was  reelected, 
virtually  without  opposition.  Being  in  Denver  soon  after  the 
reelection,  he  told  Gen.  Cook  that  he  was  the  first  sheriff  who 
had  ever  lived  to  be  elected  to  a  second  term  in  Hayes  City,  his 
three  predecessors  having  been  killed  before  the  expiration  of 
their  respective  terms  of  office.  "I  have  gone  through  one  siege," 
he  said,  "and  I  am  going  to  try  it  again.  The  chances  are  that 
I  shall  be  killed,  but  I  will  take  the  chances." 

It  was  in  October  following  his  visit  to  Denver  that  Mr. 
Ramsey  was  called  upon  to  go  in  pursuit  of  a  couple  of  horse 
thieves.  A  character  well  known  on  the  frontier  in  those  days 
as  "Dutch  Pete,"  and  known  by  no  other  name,  accompanied  by 


A  DREAM  OF  DEATH.  429 

a  pal  whose  name  is  not  known  at  all,  one  night  made  a  raid 
upon  a  band  of  horses  belonging  to  a  man  living  in  Colorado, 
and  stampeded  thirty-five  head  of  them.  When  the  owner  awoke 
the  next  morning  he  found  his  animals  gone,  and  was  able  to 
ascertain  that  the  thieves  had  taken  their  booty  in  the  direction 
of  Smoky  Hill  or  the  Republican  river.  His  first  impulse,  as 
he  afterwards  explained,  was  to  pursue  them  himself,  but  re- 
membering the  skill  and  courage  of  Ramsey  in  running  down 
such  characters,  he  changed  his  mind,  and  went  to  Hayes  City 
and  put  the  case  in  his  hands. 

Mr.  Ramsey  cheerfully  took  charge  of  the  matter,  securing 
Frank  Shepherd,  a  friend  in  whom  he  had  confidence,  as  an  as- 
sistant in  the  work  before  him,  and  kissing  his  wife  an  affec- 
tionate farewell,  he  rode  otf  in  company  with  Shepherd,  going 
towards  Smoky  Hill  with  the  intention  of  cutting  off  the  retreat 
of  the  thieves.  The  two  officers  started  off  thoroughly  armed 
and  well  mounted.  Their  horses  galloped  away  in  spirit,  as  if 
anxious  to  lessen  the  distance  between  the  officers  and  their 
game. 

Mrs.  Ramsey  watched  the  horsemen  as  long  as  she  could 
see  them,  gazing  even  into  the  blank  horizon  after  they  had 
disappeared  as  if  to  feast  her  eyes  as  long  as  possible  upon  the 
manly  form  of  her  husband,  so  full  of  life  and  hardy  manhood. 
She  had  been  used  to  having  him  placed  in  positions  of  danger, 
and  so  great  was  her  confidence  in  her  husband's  superioritj 
over  other  people  in  courage  and  coolness,  that  she  had  come 
to  have  but  little  fear  for  his  personal  welfare  w^hen  out  on  an 
expedition  like  this  upon  which  he  was  now  starting.  But,  some 
how,  she  seemed  to  feel  an  unusual  desire  on  this  occasion  to 
have  Mr.  Ramsey  not  go,  although  she  did  not  say  so  to  him, 
for  she  knew  that  he  would  attend  to  his  duty  in  spite  of  any 
forebodings  of  hers,  which  he  would  consider  foolish,  womanish 
fear.  But  she  gazed  longer  and  earnestly  after  him,  and  at 
last  when  she  knew  that  he  had  gone  for  good,  had  turned  to  go 
in  the  house,  exclaiming,  "Oh.  pshaw!  this  is  foolish.  I  know 
he  will  come  back.    He  always  does,  doesn't  he?" 

She  thus  dismissed  the  matter  from  her  mind  as  completely 
as  she  could,  and  went  about  her  household  duties,  making  her- 


430  ^  DREAM  OF  DEATH. 

self  as  busy  as  possible  during  the  day  and  as  far  into  the  night 
as  she  could  find  anything  to  do.  As  a  consequence  of  this  over 
exertion  Mrs.  Ramsey  slept  soundly  upon  going  to  bed.  Every- 
body about  the  house  had  retired  either  before  or  at  the  time 
that  she  did,  and  all  were  by*  midnight  busy  with  their  dreams. 
They  were,  however,  at  this  hour  startled  into  a  thorough  state 
of  wakefulness  by  a  scream  which  rent  the  air,  and  which  came 
from  the  direction  of  the  room  of  Mrs.  Ramsey. 

The  entire  hous(;hold  was  astir  in  a  moment,  and  all  rushed 
pell-mell  into  Mrs.  Ramsey's  apartments.  They  found  her  out 
of  bed  in  her  night  clothes,  and  her  two  children,  one  of  them 
a  mere  baby,  clinging  to  her.  She  was  talking  in  an  incoherent 
manner  at  the  top  of  her  voice  and  the  children,  thoroughly 
frightened  at  their  mother's  manner,  were  crying  loudly.  The 
inmates  of  the  house  succeeded  in  a  few  moments  in  quieting 
the  woman  down,  and  at  last  procured  an  explanation  from  her. 
"Such  a  horrid — horrid  dream!"  she  explaimed.  "Oh,  I  know 
it's  true!  I  saw  it — just  as  plain  as  day — plainer  than  I  see 
you — just  as  real  and  terrible  as  if  I  had  been  there.  I  just 
know  that  Alex  is  dead.  I  didn't  want  him  to  go.  I  tried  to 
the  last  to  see  him.  I  never  in  my  life  so  longed  to  beg  him 
not  to  go.  I  wish  I  had.  I  believe  he  would  have  stayed  with 
me.  But  poor,  poor  fellow,  I  shall  never  see  him  again,  except 
in  death." 


CHAPTER  LXIV. 

MORE  OF  MRS.  RAMSEY'S  DREAM— SHE  STARTS  TO  FIND  HER  HUS- 
BAND AND  FINDS  HER  HORRID  VISION  VERIFIED— A  TWO  AND 
TWO  FIGHT,  WHICH  RESULTS  IN  THREE  DEATHS,  MR.  RAMSEY 
BEING  ONE  OF  THEM— A  DESPERATE  DEED  WITH  TERRIBLE 
RESULTS— MRS.  RAMSEY  LOSES  HER  MIND  AND  SOON  FOLLOWS 
HER  HUSBAND  TO  THE  GRAVE. 

Mrs.  Ramsey,  after  this  raving  narrative,  became  more 
quiet  and  told  the  people  standing  about  her  that  she  had 
dreamed  that  she  had  seen  Mr.  Eamsey  and  Mr.  Shepherd  come 
upon  the  horse  thieves  and  attack  them;  that  the  thieves  had 
started  to  flee  on  their  horses;  that  the  officers  had  followed  and 
fired  upon  them,  the  thieves  returning  the  lire.  Three  men  had 
fallen  almost  simultaneously  from  their  horses,  two  of  them 
being  the  fugitives  and  the  third  her  husband,  v.ho  had  been 
fatally  shot.  Her  dream  had  continued  so  as  to  take  her  out 
to  search  for  her  husband  with  the  hope  of  meeting  him  upon 
his  return.  Instead  of  meeting  him  alive  and  well  she  had  en- 
countered a  covered  wagon,  which  she  described,  bringing  in 
his  dead  body,  seeing  which  she  had  screamed  so  loud  as  to 
awaken  herself  and  others  asleep  near  her. 

This  was  the  dream  as  Mrs.  Ramsey  told  it.  It  had  been 
so  real  to  her  and  the  occurrences  so  tangible  that  she  felt  that 
a  tragedy  such  as  she  had  described  had  occurred,  and  refused 
to  be  comforted  by  the  argument  that  it  was  foolish  to  pay  any 
heed  to  a  dream.  Such  she  agreed  was  usually  the  case,  but 
in  this  instance  she  felt  that  she  had  really  been  present  at  the 
killing  of  her  husband.  The  conviction  seemed  to  take  complete 
possession  of  her.  No  reasoning  would  shake  her  belief  that  she 
had  been  a  real  witness  to  a  tragedy  which  had  resulted  in  her 
beloved  husband's  death. 

Mrs.  Ramsey  refused  to  again  attempt  to  sleep  or  even  to 
retire  again  that  night.  The  only  comfort  which  she  seemed 
to  receive  was  in  the  assurance  that  as   soon   as   dav   should 


432  ^  DREAM  OF  DEATH. 

biieak  she  should  be  driven  out  in  the  direction  which  her  husband 
had  talcen.  "I  know  I  shall  meet  that  covered  wagon,"  she  said, 
"I  just  know  it,  but  I  want  to  go,  anyhow,  and  to  know  the 
worst." 

According  to  promise  she  was  allowed  to  start  out  from 
Hayes  at  a  very  earh^  hour  the  succeeding  morning,  a  friend  ac- 
companying her  in  a  carriage.  They  had  driven  out  a  distance 
of  fourteen  miles  without  meeting  any  one,  when  there  began 
to  dawn  a  ray  of  hope  that  the  dreadful  vision  of  the  dream 
would  prove  to  have  been  merely  a  hallucination,  caused  by  the 
imperfect  action  of  the  brain  while  asleep.  But  the  poor  woman 
looked  eagerly  forward  for  the  purpose  of  getting  the  first  view 
of  that  which  she  most  dreaded  to  see. 

Long  as  it  was  in  coming,  the  wagon  came  in  sight  all  too 
«oon.  Rising  up  over  the  summit  of  an  elevation  in  the  plains 
and  looking  down  the  descending  grade  she  saw  slowly  coming 
towards  her  and  her  companion  a  covered  wagon  drawn  by  two 
horses.  Throwing  up  her  hands  so  as  to  cover  her  eyes  she 
(exclaimed  with  all  the  force  of  positive  conviction: 

"My  God!  there's  the  wagon." 

She  could  not  have  been  more  positive  if  she  had  seen  the 
vehicle  only  the  day  before.  After  this  sight  she  refused  to 
be  comforted  and  only  urged  her  driver  to  increase  his  speed, 
sobbing  as  if  heart-broken  as  they  pushed  on. 

The  woman's  dream  had  been  more  than  a  dream.  It  had 
been  a  real  vision.  There  had  been  no  deception.  The  vehicle 
was  just  as  she  had  described  it  and  in  it  lay  the  lifeless  body 
of  her  husband,  just  as  his  wife  had  said  would  be  found  to 
be  the  case. 

Very  strange  all  this  is,  to  be  sure,  and  yet  true  to  the 
letter.    Let  who  can  explain  it. 

Inquiry  revealed  the  fact  that  the  shooting  had  occurred 
just  as  it  had  appeared  to  Mrs.  Ramsey  and  just  as  she  described 
it  to  half  a  dozen  witnesses  before  leaving  Haj^es  City.  The 
oflBcers  had  come  upon  the  thieves  in  the  afternoon  of  the  first 
day  out,  thirty-five  miles  from  Hayes,  just  as  they  were  con- 
cluding their  dinners  and  preparing  to  continue  their  journey. 
They  had  mounted  when  they  discovered  the  officers  riding  down 


1 

111;,:; 

4 

,  j.lli'li*! 
liilfM 

1 

1 

11 

11 
1 

1 

VI 

1, 

1       .; 

i. 

j  1    ilK 

i 

,'!  1. 

1; 

.  '* 

i,    : 

il  '' 

'' 

■i\ 

.IlliJ 

A  DREAM  OF  DEATH.  435 

upon  them.  The  thieves  knew  Kamsey,  and  their  first  thought 
was  to  escape  from  him  at  all  hazards.  They  accordingly  put 
spurs  to  their  horses  which  they  rode,  leaving  the  others  which 
they  had  stolen  behind.  The  officers  spurred  up  their  horses 
also,  and  were  soon  chasing  the  thieves  across  the  plains.  The 
two  parties  were  not  less  than  sixty  yards  apart  when  Ramsey 
said  to  Shepherd,  after  having  summoned  the  fugitives  to  halt: 

''Well,  I  don't  see  that  there  is  anything  to  do  but  to  bring 
them  down.  You  take  the  one  on  your  side  and  I'll  take  the 
fellow  on  my  side." 

This  speech  had  hardly  been  spoken  when  the  two  thieves 
turned  in  their  saddles  with  pistols  presented.  It  was  plain  to 
be  seen  that  there  must  be  a  deadly  duel  then  and  there. 

"Won't  you  surrender?"  shouted  Ramsey. 

''Never!"  was  the  reply. 

''Then  we  will  kill  vou." 

''Fire  away." 

"Give  it  to  'em."    Thus  to  Shepherd. 

There  were  four  pistol  shots  coming  so  close  together  as  to 
sound  like  a  volley. 

One  of  the  thieves,  the  one  at  whom  Ramsey  had  shot,  reeled 
and  tumbled  from  his  horse  dead.  The  other  reeled  but  did  not 
fall,  and  Shepherd  spurred  on  after  him,  not  noticing  that  Ram- 
sey did  not  follow.  After  galloping  a  short  distance  the  second 
man  fell  from  his  saddle  mortally  wounded. 

Turning  then  for  the  first  time,  Shepherd,  who  was  unhurt, 
discovered  that  Ramsey  had  been  knocked  from  his  horse.  He 
had  been  shot  through  and  through,  the  ball  passing  near  his 
heart.  There  was  a  ranch  a  few  miles  distant  and  Shepherd 
determined  to  make  an  effort  to  get  his  friend  to  it  and  to  leave 
the  thieves  where  they  had  fallen.  "Dutch  Pete"  proved  to  be 
the  man  at  whom  Ramsey  had  directed  his  aim.  He  it  was  who 
had  shot  Ramsey.  But  Ramsey's  shot  had  gone  straight  home, 
passing  through  Pete's  heart.  The  other  thief  was  also  mor- 
tally wounded,  and  soon  died.  Their  bodies  were  covered  with 
stones  and  left  where  they  had  fallen.  The  stolen  horses  were 
gathered  together  and  returned  to  their  owner. 

As  for  Ramsev,  he  was  taken  to  the  ranch  referred  to  and 

16 


436  ^  DREAM  OF  DEATH. 

given  every  possible  attention.  But  after  lingering  on  in  great 
pain  he  died  at  12  o'clock  of  the  night  succeeding  the  shooting — 
at  the  exact  hour  at  which  Mrs.  Ramsey  had  had  her  startling 
and  strange  dream. 

The  body  was  then  placed  in  the  ranchman's  covered  wagon, 
and  the  cortege  started  for  Hayes  City,  meeting  Mrs.  Ramsey 
on  the  road. 

It  is  useless  to  attempt  to  further  describe  the  anguish  of 
the  poor  woman.  She  refused  to  be  comforted  after  her  hus- 
band's death,  and  two  weeks  after  his  funeral  she  was  a  raving 
maniac.  Four  months  afterwards  her  unhappy  spirit  deserted 
the  flesh  and  she  joined  her  husband  in  the  world  beyond  this. 


A  MEXICAN  BANDIT. 
CHAPTER  LXV. 

CANDADO  COSTILLO,  A  RED-HANDED  MURDERER,  DEFIES  THE  OFFI- 
CERS FOR  YEARS  AND  RAIDS  THE  COUNTRY  AT  WILL— FINALLY 
CAUGHT  UNAWARES  BY  MARSHAL  HYATT  AND  SENT  TO  THE 
PEN— SERVES  OUT  HIS  TIME— AFTER  HIS  RELEASE,  HE  ADDS 
FOUR  OTHER  MURDERS  TO  HIS  LONG  LIST  OF  CRIMES— HIS 
TRAGIC  DEATH. 

Candado  Costello,  a  nephew  of  the  famous  murderer,  Es- 
pinoza,  although  the  blood  of  the  ancient  Castilian  nobility 
flowed  through  his  veins,  was  a  bad,  bad  Mexican. 

And,  although  we  have  neither  the  space  nor  the  inclination 
to  moralize  at  any  length,  it  might  be  well  to  remark,  for  the 
benefit  of  the  boys  who  feast  upon  blood-and-thunder  novels  of 
the  yellow-back  variety,  that  bad  men  invariably  come  to  grief. 
For  a  time  they  may  rob  and  kill  and  plunder,  and  swagger 
around  saloons  on  the  proceeds  of  their  crimes,  terrorieing 
peaceable  and  defenseless  people,  yet  sooner  or  later  justice  will 
overtake  them,  and  the}'  must  ^aj  the  penalty  of  their  crimes. 
This  is  the  inexorable  law  of  fate,  and  though  they  may  be  able 
for  a  time  to  evade  its  penalties,  they  are  only  enjoying  a  res- 
pite— their  days  are  numbered,  and  the  number  is  never  large. 
But  to  return  to  our  subject. 

Costillo  was  a  murderer  as  well  as  a  thief,  there  being  no 
less  than  four  cold-blooded  murders  that  have  been  directly 
traced  to  his  blood-stained  hand.  But  the  particular  case  which 
we  wish  to  relate  here,  is  that  of  the  killing  of  a  wealthy  Mex- 
ican cattleman  near  Bernallilo,  N.  M.,  in  1886,  for  which  he  was 
brought  to  justice  by  two  members  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  De- 
tective Association — Frank  A.  Hyatt,  and  Walter  O.  Malley,  of 
Walsenburg. 

Costillo,  with  his  brother  Juan  and  a  number  of  other  rela- 
tives and  friends,  made  their  homes  in  the  almost  Inaccessible 
Huerfano  canon,  about  twelve  miles  north  of  Walsenburg,  Colo. 
From  this  stronghold  they  sallied  forth  on  many  a  raid  after 
cattle  and  horses,  which  they  generally  managed  to  escape  back 
into  the  canon  with  in  safety.  In  the  raid  on  Romero's  ranch, 
he  and  his  brother  secured  a  fine  bunch  of  cattle  and  were  driv- 


438  ^  MEXICAN  BANDIT. 

ing  them  toward  home,  when  they  w^ere  overtaken  near  Espanola 
by  Komero  and  his  son.  They  turned  and  fired  upon  their  pur- 
suers, and  tlie  elder  Romero  fell  dead.  The  son  escaped  back 
home  and  tried  to  persuade  their  neighbors  and  friends  to  organ- 
ize a  posse  and  follow  his  father's  murderers,  but  they  were  all 
afraid  to  follow  the  desperado. 

Mrs.  Romero  offered  a  reward  of  |5,000  for  the  capture  of 
Candado  Costillo,  Juan  having  escaped  to  old  Mexico.  Gov. 
Shelton  offered  |500,  and  an  uncle  of  Mrs.  Romero  |100  more. 
All  these  rewards  did  not  tempt  the  local  oflicials  to  capture,  him, 
and  the  sheriff  of  Huerfano  countv,  for  some  reason  or  other, 
did  not  make  any  effort  to  apprehend  the  criminal. 

Finally,  Senator  Barilla,  of  Walsenburg,  a  friend  of  Romero, 
the  murdered  man,  wrote  to  Dr.  Gale,  of  Alamosa,  asking  him  to 
interest  Frank  Hyatt  in  the  case,  as  he  knew  of  no  one  else 
that  would  undertake  the  difficult  job. 

Hyatt  commenced  work  on  the  case  about  the  1st  of  May, 
1887.  He  went  up  to  Walsenburg  and  had  a  consultation  with 
O'l^Ialley  as  to  the  best  means  of  securing  their  man.  O'Malley 
said  that  it  would  be  almost  useless  to  attempt  to  take  the 
murderer  at  his  home,  but  added  that  Costillo  was  subpoenaed 
as  a  witness  in  a  civil  case  that  was  to  be  called  up  for  trial  in 
about  a  month,  and  that  would  be  the  best  time  to  effect  his 
capture.  So  they  agreed  to  wait,  and  Hyatt  returned  to  Ala- 
mosa. 

On  the  2d  of  June  he  received  a  message  from  O'Malley,  say- 
ing: "Man  O.  K.  Come  at  once."  He  went  to  Walsenburg 
that  evening,  and  the  next  morning,  O'Malley  came  to  his  room 
at  the  hotel  with  the  information  that  Costillo  was  then  in  the 
court  room.  They  both  went  over  to  the  court  house,  and  Hyatt 
stepped  into  the  office  of  Treasurer  Nolan  to  wait  while  O'Malley 
hunted  up  Costillo.  When  O'Malley  entered  the  room  with  Cos- 
tillo, Hyatt  w^as  pretending  to  read  a  paper,  and  paid  no  atten- 
tion to  them  until  O'Malley  introduced  the  Mexican,  who  stepped 
forward,  with  his  right  hand  extended,  to  shake  hands.  Hyatt 
seized  the"  Mexican's  right  hand  with  his  own  left,  and  held  it 
as  in  a  vice,  at  the  same  time  leveling  his  revolver  with  his 
right.  Realizing  that  he  had  been  neatly  trapped,  Costillo  did 
not  make  a  struggle,  and  O'Malley  quickly  slipped  the  first  pair 
of  "^ad  cinch"  handcuffs  ever  placed  on  a  murderer's  wrists 
on  the  prisoner. 


A  DREAM  OF  DEATH. 


439 


Hyatt  and  O'Malley,  with  their  prisoner,  hurried  out  of  town 
toward  La  Veta,  to  take  the  train  for  Santa  Fe.  At  La  Veta 
they  were  overtaken  b}'  a  deputy  sheriff  and  a  posse,  with  a  writ 
of  habeas  corpus  for  Costillo,  and  a  warrant  for  the  arrest  of 
Hyatt,  on  a  charge  of  kidnapping.  This  necessitated  a  return  to 
^Yalsenburg,  but  as  soon  as  the  case  could  be  called  up,  Hyatt 
was  discharged,  and  allowed  to  proceed  with  his  prisoner,  whom 
he  landed  safely  at  Santa  Fe. 

Got.  Sheldon  promptly  paid  the  |500  reward  offered  by 
him,  as  did  the  uncle  of  Mrs.  Romero,  but  the  widow  declined 
to  paj'  the  |5,000  she  had  offered,  or  any  part  of  it,  and  Hyatt 
finally  decided  to  let  her  go.  Costillo  was  found  guilty  and 
sentenced  to  eight  years  in  the  territorial  penitentiary. 

Costillo  was  a  model  prisoner  and  in  consequence  a  large 
portion  of  his  sentence  was  deducted  for  good  behavior.  This 
was  due  not  to  any  good  qualities  of  the  brute  nor  to  a  desire 
to  reform,  but  was  simply  a  cunning  design  to  obtain  freedom 
that  he  might  the  sooner  wreak  the  vengeance  his  blood-thirsty 
appetite  desired.  He  was  afraid  to  attack  the  plucky  officer  who 
had  sent  him  over  the  road,  so  he  contented  himself  with  the 
murder  of  inoffensive  travelers,  bv  his  own  confession  in  a  let- 
ter  to  a  friend,  having  killed  no  less  than  four  white  men  after 
his  release. 

The  crime  for  which  he  was  finally  shot  to  death  was  the 
murder  of  two  Swede  miners  at  Red  Hill  pass,  in  South  park, 
in  1891.  He,  with  a  younger  Mexican,  killed  the  Swedes  while 
they  were  camped  at  night,  and  dragged  their  bodies  away  from 
the  road  so  that  they  were  not  found  for  several  days.  Finally 
they  were  discovered,  and  the  sheriff  of  Park  county,  with  two 
deputies,  started  after  the  Mexicans,  who  they  learned  had  gone 
to  Costillo's  old  retreat  in  the  Huerfano  canon.  They  seem  to 
have  killed  the  two  miners  simply  for  revenge,  as  neither  of 
them  had  an}-  money  or  other  property  sufficient  to  tempt  the 
cupidity  of  even  a  Mexican. 

When  the  sheriff'  had  them  surrounded  in  their  cabin  the 
3'oung  Mexican  surrendered,  but  old  Costillo  refused  to  give 
up,  and  stood  the  officers  off  for  two  or  three  days.  Finally  he 
made  a  desperate  dash  for  liberty  and  was  shot  all  to  pieces 
by  the  officers,  and  no  one  mourned  his  loss.  It  is  doubtful  if 
he  was  even  given  decent  burial,  as  his  neighbors,  who  were 
nearly  all  Mexicans,  despised  him  so  thoroughly  that  the}'  would 
have  nothing  to  do  with  him. 

The  young  Mexican  was  convicted  of  murder  and  sentenced 
to  the  penitentiary  for  life,  and  is  now  probably  serving  out  his 
time. 


CONCLUSION. 

Just  a  word  with  the  reader  in  finishing  this  book.  Not  by 
way  of  apology  or  explanation,  but  as  a  general  adieu.  Cer- 
tainly we  feel  that  the  stories  as  here  given  explain  themselves, 
and  we  believe  that  the  reader,  will  agree  with  the  writer,  after 
perusing  the  volume  from  beginning  to  end,  that  he  has  gotten 
the  worth  of  his  money.  Hence  no  apology  is  necessary.  It  is 
true  that  the  cases  here  related  have  not  been  drawn  out  as  is 
the  custom  with  some  detectives  who  write  books,  but  this 
neglect,  if  such  it  may  be  termed,  has  been  intentional.  It  is 
not  believed  that  the  western  reader  has  time  to  pore  over  small 
details,  or  that  he  cares  to  know  of  every  step  of  the  detectives, 
whose  personal  conduct  outside  of  their  real  accomplishments 
in  the  line  in  which  they  may  be  operating  is  of  no  consequence 
to  any  one  but  themselves.  Hence  this  book  has  not  dealt  with 
all  the  little  operations  of  the  detectives  who  figure  in  its  pages. 
Its  aim  has  been  to  present  the  material  and  important  facts, 
and  to  picture  the  criminal  as  well  as  the  officer. 

The  criminal  of  the  Far  West  is  a  man  who  displays  himself 
most  thoroughly  in  times  of  emergency.  It  is  when  he  comes 
face  to  face  with  the  officer  that  he  is  desperate  and  difficult  to 
deal  with.  He  will  always  fight,  and  the  officer  who  hunts  him 
down  may  in  four  cases  out  of  five  count  upon  having  to  take 
his  man  at  the  muzzle  of  his  revolver.  It  is  this  fact  which 
makes  the  western  narrative  of  more  thillling  interest  than  that 
of  the  more  conservative  eastern  localities.  It  is  also  this  fact 
which  increases  the  danger  and  hardship  of  a  detective's  life 
in  the  West.  The  detective  of  the  Eocky  mountains,  and  of  the 
plains  which  stretch  out  to  the  great  rivers  in  the  middle  of  the 
continent,  must  be  a  man  possessed  not  alone  of  a  keen  capacity 
for  hunting  down  criminals,  but  must  have  the  courage  to  face 
such  criminal  when  taken,  and  to  risk  his  life  in  hand-to-hand 
combat  when  his  man  is  come  upon.  But  it  would  seem  un- 
necessary to  dwell  upon  this  fact  for  the  benefit  of  the  reader 
of  this  volume.    It  speaks  for  itself.    There  is  hardlj'  a  story  of 


CONCLUSION.  441 

the  number  told  which  does  not  bear  out  this  assertion.    There 
are  very  few  captures  here  reported  which  have  not  been  made 
by  officers  who  rislced  their  own  lives  in  making  them.     There 
are  some  cases  in  which  men  made  such  resistance  as  to  require 
that  they  be  shot  down  in  their  tracks,  and  in  some  cases  it  has 
been  the  sad  duty  to  chronicle  the  killing  of  efficient  and  faith- 
ful officers  by  these  desperadoes.     As  a  class,  however,  Gen. 
Cook's  men  have  proved  quite  capable  of  taking  care  of  them- 
selves, while  his  ow^n  escape  from  the  desperado's  bullet,  during 
his  thirty-five  years  of  active  detective  life  on  the  border,  has 
been  little  less  than  marvelous.      It  can  be  accounted  for  only 
upon  the  ground  that  he  is  shrewd  enough  to  detect  many  dif- 
ficulties before  they  arise,   courageous  enough  to   meet   them 
promptly  when  they  do  come,  and  cool  and  skillful  enough  to 
give  them  better  than  they  send  when  the  emergency  arises.    It 
thus  happens  that  he  is  alive   and  prosperous,   after   serving 
thirty-five  years  of  detective  life  on  the  border,  when  nearly  all 
of  his  old-time  companions  are  dead.     He  has  also  trained  his 
men  so  thoroughly  that  they  have  learned  to  protect  themselves. 
But  the  record  here  presented  is  not  merely  one  of  daring 
and  adventure.     It  is  one  of  hardships  and  great  personal  sac- 
rifice as  well.     It  will  appear  in  many  of  the  stories  told  that 
the  events  related  occurred  at  a  time  when  there  were  no  rail- 
roads in  the  country.     Gen.  Cook  and  his  officers  have,  since 
the  time  when  he  first  settled  in  Colorado,  traversed  almost  the 
entire  barren  plains  and  Kocky  mountains  from  Northern  Da- 
kota to  Southwestern  Texas,  climbing  precipices,  stage-coaching, 
horseback  riding  and  w^alking;  sleeping  out  for  several  nights  in 
succession,  subsisting  for  days  on  the  scantiest  supply  of  food, 
and  often  going  from  sixty  to  seventy -two  hours  without  sleep; 
facing  the  worst  of  storms,  and,  indeed,  enduring  all  the  priva- 
tions of  frontier  life,  where  there  are  few  people,  fewer  accom- 
modations and  much  that  is  trying  upon  mind  and  body.     Any 
one  of  the  trips,  such  as  those  recorded  of  Gen.  Cook  in  the  Britt 
and  Hilligoss  or  Clodfelter  and  Johnson  story,  would  be  suffic- 
ient to  use  up  an  ordinary  individual,  and  many  would  be  en- 
tirely unable  to  endure  it.    Yet  Gen.  Cook  has  put  in  thirty-five 
years  in  just  such  service,  ever  mindful  of  the  public  welfare 


442  CONCLUSION. 

and  forgetful  of  his  own  comfort  and  quiet;  evei'  anxious  to 
bring  the  guilty  to  punishment  and  to  free  the  countrj-  of  the 
human  vultures  who  prey  upon  it,  regardless  of  his  own  private 
well-being,  and  in  many  cases  without  hope  of  reward  or  ap- 
preciation. That  he  has  in  his  day  done  a  grand  service  for  the 
people  of  the  state  in 'making  it  a  place  disagreeable  and  dan- 
gerous to  evil-doers  is  a  truth  which  many  appreciate.  His  sei*v- 
ices  have  ever  been  at  1he  command  of  the  people  among  whom 
he  lives,  and  the  stories  here  told — only  a  portion  of  those  which 
might  be  related— best  attest  that  when  he  has  acted  he  has 
done  so  in  a  wav  to  make  the  work  count. 


I    Deacidified  using  the  Bookkeeper  process. 
Neutralizing  agent:  Magnesium  Oxide 
Treatment  Date:  Dec.  2004 

PreservationTechnologies 

A  WORLD  LEADER  IN  PAPER  PRESERVATION 

1 1 1  Thomson  Park  Drive 
Cranljef ry  Township.  PA  1 6066 
1  (724)  779-21  n